


Shadow of the Valkyrie

by LeanaM



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Conspiracy, F/M, Mystery, based on agatha christie's secret adversary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-01-28 22:40:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 40,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12617148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeanaM/pseuds/LeanaM
Summary: Hermione runs into Theodore Nott - quite literally - one afternoon in Diagon Alley. Half-laughing, half-serious, they both deplore their boring lives and yearn for adventure. Little do they know they're about to be swept up in a web of deceit and mystery. All it takes is one name...





	1. Diagon Alley

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on Agatha Christie's 'The Secret Adversary' - it's a conspiracy-mystery kinda thing and I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Beta love to Maloreiy - any remaining mistakes are my own.  
> Alpha love to JEPierre
> 
> I own neither the characters nor the original plot. But I like to think I made a nice mix of both...
> 
> Most of this is written and in the process of being revised/beta'd so I'm aiming for weekly updates, real life issues notwithstanding.

 

****

* * *

 

**1\. Diagon Alley**

* * *

 

Hermione Granger pulled the hood of her cloak deeper over her head and tried to shoulder her way through the throng of shoppers in Diagon Alley. She muttered another cooling charm and only just avoided tripping over some small child or other that made a beeline for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes without regard for the other people in the streets, leaving an irritated cry, muttered curses and shaking fists in his wake.

She'd forgotten how much she hated Diagon Alley on Saturdays. Or rather, she'd forgotten it was a Saturday when she received the notice that a book she'd ordered was now finally available at Flourish & Blotts and had hastily decided to Apparate over to pick it up. Walking out onto Diagon Alley had been a stark reminder of why she usually avoided the place during weekends. Rows upon rows of wizards and witches bobbed along the Alley, weaving from one shop to the next, clustering around display windows and chattering excitedly with friends they hadn't seen for simply ages. To the usual throng of Saturday afternoon shoppers were added the last minute school shoppers - it was the last weekend of August, after all - and those tempted outside by the unnaturally hot and sunny weather. It was mayhem.

Hermione always wore a hooded cloak when she ventured out into the wizarding world, concealing her well-known face from those well-meaning strangers who couldn't stop talking about what she'd done for them during the War, and how they were so happy she and Harry and Ron had defeated the Dark Lord, and could they have an autograph, please? She hated the attention she and her friends still received. All the details of her life were out there for anyone to read. _Witch Weekly_ had announced the separation between Ronald Weasley and herself before they had even had the time to tell their families, devoting several-page spreads to insinuations, rumours and outright lies about the why and how of their break-up. They hadn't treated Harry much better when he had walked away from Ginny a few months before, so Hermione had been somewhat prepared. But it was just scary to have perfect strangers walk up to her and start a conversation about how she deserved much better than Ronald Weasley, or - worse - that she was an idiot to let him go.

Hermione spotted the door to Flourish and Blotts and started elbowing her way towards it, carefully sidestepping an elderly witch who was waving about a walking stick, and ducking to avoid a suddenly outstretched arm.

"And even after all that, she hasn't seen him in weeks," said one witch in a particularly unflattering puce robe with golden hems.

"But he was always such a nice boy, Zach was," said her companion, after giving Hermione a glare for bumping into them.

She muttered a barely-heard apology and finally made it to the door of the bookshop.

Before she could enter, however, someone pulled the door open and stormed out, his shoulder crashing into Hermione with such force that she fell backwards onto the cobblestones. A hastily flung out hand couldn't quite break her fall and the sharp pain that shot through her wrist as she hit the streets made her exclaim in surprise.

The man turned around at the sound, muttered something to himself as he looked up to the sky and then walked up to her.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine, thanks," Hermione snapped through clenched teeth.

"I am sorry. Let me help you up," the man said as he held out a hand. Hermione hesitated, then reached out and grasped his hand, only to let go instantly with a cry of pain. She cradled the wrist to her chest and started looking for her wand with her left hand.

The man kneeled down and held the bruised wrist in his hands. She tried not to notice his long, elegant fingers or the careful way he examined her injured hand.

"What's wrong?"

Hermione looked up at him, an angry explanation on her tongue, but the words flew from her lips as soon as she recognised him. "Theodore Nott?"

He, too, suddenly recognised her half-hidden face. "Hermione Granger."

Hermione couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine as he said her name in that smooth, warm voice, and then smiled at her with that crooked half-smile she had come to know so well in her last year at Hogwarts.

A slight movement made her wince in pain and a look of contrition passed over his face.

"Come on, let's get you standing again," he said gently, grasping Hermione under the elbows and lifting her to her feet with impressive ease. "Now, what's wrong with your wrist?"

"Sprained, I think. I can fix it, Nott, you can go on your merry way now." She finally managed to take her wand out of her pocket and was about to shoot a spell at her wrist when he placed a hand on hers.

"Let me, Granger. It's the least I can do." He whisked out his own wand and muttered a healing spell that took effect immediately.

Hermione's tense shoulders sagged with relief. She looked up at him and smiled thankfully.

Then they both spoke at the same time.

"What brings you here?"

"Haven't seen you in years."

They laughed. At that moment, Hermione was jostled by a passer-by and almost lost her balance, but Nott reached out and prevented her from falling. He didn't let go but guided her away from the throng of shoppers to a quieter corner.

"So," he began again. "What brings you to Diagon Alley on a day like this?"

"A book I ordered came in today so I thought I'd come and pick it up."

Nott shook his head. "It's very busy at Flourish and Blotts at the moment. School books, you know. You might want to come back in a few hours. There's an important Quidditch match on at three. The place will be deserted by then."

Hermione glanced into the bookshop through the display window and saw he was right. It would take ages to get through that mass of people, find the book she wanted and pay for it. And she'd never manage without being recognised. She licked her lips and glanced out at the people passing them by. Nobody seemed to pay them any attention. "How about we get some ice cream and catch up? I haven't seen you in so long."

Nott hesitated. She could see he wanted to say yes, but something stopped him.

"Fortescue's is just as busy as the rest of the Alley," he said, stalling.

Hermione smiled even brighter. "Then would you mind going somewhere Muggle? They don't have quite the same range of flavours, but I promise you, you won't be disappointed."

"Somewhere Muggle," Nott repeated, almost absentmindedly.

"Yes, surely you aren't afraid of the big bad Muggles?" she teased.

He didn't seem to have heard her. He just blinked, smiled that crooked half-smile that had made her heart skip a beat only moments ago and nodded.

"Sounds like a plan, Granger. Lead the way."

"I'll Apparate us. Hold on." Hermione gripped her wand firmly in her right hand and Nott's grip on her arms tightened a fraction. She closed her eyes, focused on her destination and turned on her heel.

They arrived in a dingy, smelly back alley. Nott looked around dubiously, curling up his nose in distaste as his eyes fell on the dustbins, dirty rags and stray cardboard that littered the ground.

"You can buy ice cream here?"

Hermione laughed at his incredulous tone. She changed her cloak into a sunhat with a wide brim, dusted off her summer dress and sandals and hid her wand in a pocket.

"It's just around the corner. Go on, transfigure your clothes into something Muggle. You can't go out there dressed like that." Her eyes took in his black robe with silver buttons. The cut certainly flattered his figure in a way no Muggle clothing ever flattered a man, but they couldn't be seen like this. Not when it was almost thirty degrees. "Or do you want me to do it?" she asked when he didn't react.

Nott turned away with a blush on his pale cheeks and quickly changed into a loose shirt and shorts.

Hermione walked towards the entry of the alley. "Come on, then," she said over her shoulder. "Let's find some ice-cream."

* * *

They had to wait in line for almost twenty minutes, and it was all Hermione could do to prevent Nott from Confunding the Muggles around them and sending them elsewhere so the queue would disappear more quickly. They chatted about nothing in particular while they could be overheard. When it was finally time to order their ice creams, Nott whipped out his bank card to pay before Hermione could protest.

Carrying their treats, they sat down in a small deserted park, enjoying the cool shade of the trees.

"This really is good," Nott admitted after a long silence in which they hastened to lick up as much of the melting ice cream as possible.

Hermione quickly cleaned their sticky hands with a whispered _Tergeo_ before triumphantly saying, "I told you so!"

He shook his head with a soft snort. "You haven't changed a bit, Granger."

Hermione shifted uneasily under his piercing look. She remembered those blue eyes and how they could outstare a cat. Nott was one of the few Slytherins who had come back after the Battle of Hogwarts to complete their last year. There hadn't been many 'Eighth year' students, as they called themselves, and Nott and Tracey Davis were the only Slytherins. There hadn't been any Gryffindors except Hermione, since Harry and Ron opted to go straight into Auror training instead of completing their education. In those first months she had felt so alone.

She and Nott had often been paired up for little projects. Hermione long suspected the teachers had done that only to improve Slytherin-Gryffindor relations, using them as examples. They didn't trust any of the other Eighth Years not to act up against Nott, whose father was a convicted Death Eater.

He had surprised her, though. He was intelligent and could hold up his end of a conversation. He listened to her tirades about house-elves and argued against her black-and-white views of good and evil. He did his half of the work without complaint and to such a high standard she could hardly ever find fault. He regaled her with stories of what happened in the Slytherin common room, one more outrageous than the other, until she wasn't sure if he was telling the truth or just trying to get a reaction from her. It amused her nonetheless.

By the time she went to the Burrow for a subdued first Christmas after the War, she didn't feel so lonely any more. In fact, she looked forward to going back in January and spending more time with him.

They studied together, they worked together and they ate together, and Hermione had been convinced that they would remain good friends after graduation.

But life got in the way.

Hermione secured a job at the Ministry and got swept away by parties, friends and her relationship with Ronald Weasley. Theodore Nott, though by no means forgotten, became one of those people she always intended to owl, but never did.

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment and leaned against the trunk of a large oak tree. "So what happened to you in these past years? I'm sure I haven't seen you since Hogwarts."

Nott shifted more comfortably against the same tree and sighed. "Can't tell you all that much really. I tried to find a job but couldn't get one. I only have to say my name and people shy away. There isn't much out there for the son of a renowned Death Eater, you know. That is to say, nothing much on the safe side of the law. I'm sure I could get involved in any kind of dubious Dark Arts related venture in the blink of an eye but that is not a world I want to have anything to do with." He laughed mirthlessly.

Hermione put a hand on his arm and squeezed. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't realise there was still so much prejudice. It's been five years."

He shrugged. "It's not like I really need a job, you know. Enough gold in the vaults to keep me going for a few hundred years. But it's quite boring, having nothing much to do. There's only so many times you can read the same books."

"Did you try in the Muggle world?"

"I considered it. But I'd need the Ministry to give me some sort of Muggle credentials, and unfortunately they always seem to mislay my paperwork. So I can't do any studies that might interest me, and I'd rather not be a barista in some café if that means I take away a job from someone who actually needs one. So the Muggle world isn't a solution. I occasionally make potions for one of the shops on Diagon Alley, which spares me from utter boredom, but it's hardly a real job."

Hermione let her eyes sweep across the deserted park. Muggles didn't come here because, even in full daylight, they believed it to be haunted. But Hermione loved the eerie silence and wasn't scared away by the threatening shadows and whispering leaves. It was her favourite place in London.

"A real job isn't all that much better, you know," she observed lightly. "I go to work every day, Monday through Friday, put in the hours, do all the groundwork. . . and see my boss walk off with the praise and congratulations. It's thoroughly frustrating. I work for the Department for Care and Regulation of Magical Creatures. I started there because I wanted to make a difference for those creatures that are so often overlooked."

"Like house-elves?"

Hermione laughed. "Yes. House-elves, werewolves, vampires, merpeople… I hate the air of superiority with which most wizards and witches talk about them, the disdain with which they treat them. And I really thought I was making a difference, but in reality our department is the laughing stock of the Ministry. Nobody thinks to tell us anything. I mean, only last week, I went up to the Auror department to complain about never getting an answer from them, only for them to tell me that it was my own fault, because I was addressing my memos to Zach Smith, and he hadn't been to work for three months at least. Every time I lay the foundations for a new law, my boss gets all the credit. It's so frustrating and to be honest, I'm utterly, thoroughly fed up."

"So why don't you change departments? I'm sure they'd want you anywhere."

"But that's part of the problem!" When Nott looked surprised, she explained. "Of course they want me anywhere. I'm Hermione Granger, part of the Golden Trio, War Heroine, Order of Merlin, First Class. Everyone wants to be able to say they have me working for them. Everyone wants my reputation. Nobody wants _me_."

"Which might still be better than not being wanted at all, Granger. The Nott name no longer opens any doors, you know, quite the contrary. Only this afternoon they refused to serve me at Flourish and Blotts, and that happens just about every time I go into the Alley these days. The War is far from forgotten, you know. The newspapers don't help, of course, they keep bringing that stuff up when there isn't much else to write about. ' _Death Eaters - where are they now?_ ' Never mind they are all in Azkaban, except for Draco. It sells copies so they bring up the whole sorry business, and they never fail to mention me when they talk about my father. ' _Never convicted son of Gereon Nott_ ,' they say, implying that though I was never convicted I somehow escaped justice."

Hermione laughed again. "Sounds like we're two sides of the same Galleon." She thought about the break-up between her and Ron smeared out in the tabloids for all to read. People hadn't cared that she was hurting and grieving for a relationship that no longer was, they had lapped up all the details and kept bringing it up whenever they saw her. She hated it.

"Maybe we should both do something to make a change in our lives," Hermione said dreamily. "It's only been five years since the War, but I almost miss the thrill of it these days. Not camping out in cold forests in the middle of winter, but just… the feeling that I was _doing_ something. Something important and exciting and life-changing."

Nott was silent for a long time, but then he let out a laugh. "So maybe we should go on an adventure, Granger. To relieve ourselves from boredom. What do you say?"

Hermione snorted. "An adventure? Write messages in lemon juice and use code names?"

"Lemon juice? What does lemon juice have to do with anything?"

Hermione shrugged. "Muggle thing. You write something in lemon juice, it's invisible, but when you heat it up, you can read it."

Nott shook his head, looking unconvinced. "We don't need lemon juice on our adventure. We have magic. So how about it? Joining me?"

"Sure. Because adventures just happen to people."

He glanced at his watch, sprang up elegantly and held out a hand to help Hermione to her feet.

"That Quidditch match has started by now, we can head back to Diagon Alley. But you do have a point, Miss Granger. Adventures don't just happen. We should go looking for one."

Hermione let herself be pulled to her feet and shook her head with a dismissive smile. "Or we could just advertise in the Prophet," she teased, not quite sure why she was going along with this strange idea.

"Yes, that's brilliant! Why not?"

Hermione couldn't help snorting. "So what would you say, then? Wizard looking for adventure? Enquire below?"

"I'm sure that would create the wrong kind of interest," he said, wriggling his eyebrows and leering suggestively.

Hermione flushed.

"Maybe we put it a little differently. Granger, between us, there's nothing we can't do, no runes we can't read, no curses we can't break. You know it's true." His blue eyes glittered with irresistible enthusiasm. Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times before just shaking her head helplessly and holding out her arm.

"I'll Apparate us both back to the Leaky and we can go to Flourish and Blotts together. Let's see if they still refuse to serve you when I'm there."

* * *

Diagon Alley was, indeed, deserted. Everyone seemed to be either clustered to the Wizarding Wireless or out to see the Quidditch match that could decide the championship of this year's league. Hermione walked briskly towards Flourish and Blotts, Nott trailing after her, still babbling about their 'Great Adventure'.

"Wouldn't it be fun, though, to be sent out to some remote corner of the world to retrieve a rare and priceless potion ingredient? Or to save a town from a vampire clan? Or remove the curse from an ancient artefact that has driven all its owners mad…"

"Honestly, Nott, you should be writing books instead of wasting your time being bored. The ideas you come up with." Hermione was getting slightly irritated now they had left the magical seclusion of the little park and returned to the real world. She didn't like to be reminded of how much she was missing out on, how many other things she could be doing, how many other things would never happen to her because she was Hermione Granger and she didn't get embroiled in strange adventures. Not since Harry Potter had left Hogwarts and defeated Voldemort.

She pushed the door open and stepped into the cool bookshop, her heart lifting just from the smell of new and old books, parchment and paper, and the knowledge they contained. Nott stepped in after her. A sales clerk came up to them immediately.

"Miss Granger, what a delight. We haven't seen you in some time. The book you ordered is ready for you, if you'd follow me." He eyed Nott narrowly and bent closer to Hermione. "Is this man bothering you, Miss Granger? We can evict him from the premises, just say the word."

Hermione took a step back, bumping into Nott. She hardly noticed that he didn't even move away. Her eyes were blazing and her hair crackled with fury.

"My _friend_ Mr. Nott is just looking for a book. I thought I'd come with him because I received your notification this morning that my order had arrived. Surely you have no problem with my friend being here? Because if you do, I shall have to take my business elsewhere."

The sales clerk turned bright red and muttered a half-hearted apology. He started walking towards the counter and Hermione followed, still glaring. Nott just grinned at her and went off into one of the aisles to find the books he wanted.

They left the bookshop a little later and stood awkwardly in the near-deserted street.

"Do you think we should do it?" Nott asked, his blue eyes fixed on Hermione.

She blinked, confused, her mind already on the book she had just purchased. "Hmm? What?"

"Advert in the Prophet. 'Highly skilled witch and wizard, looking for adventure. Any jobs considered, pay negotiable. Dangerous missions priority'," he declaimed theatrically.

Hermione sighed. "Fine, we'll be Magical Adventurers, available for any kind of job. I'm not sure what kind of offers you will get with that kind of advert, but we'll see." She glanced at her watch and started. "It's nearly five now! I need to go, I'm meeting Ginny. She's just returned from a tour in North America. Or was it Australia? I'm not sure." She shook her head vigorously as if to make sense of her own thoughts. "It really was lovely to see you again, Nott. Let's stay in touch, this time, shall we?"

She held out her hand and he shook it amiably.

"Of course," he chuckled. "I'm going to find us an adventure to liven up our dreary existence, remember? I'm not going off on my own, you know, Granger. I'll need you by my side. You kept Potter alive through all that horror. I'd feel much better knowing you had my back in any situation."

Hermione laughed and started walking towards the other end of Diagon Alley. She could travel to the Burrow by Floo from George's joke shop. She smiled to herself as she thought of Theodore Nott, walking back into her life after almost five years. She remembered how he had whispered in her ear and how his breath had tickled her neck and she shivered in the hot August sun.

* * *

Theo watched Hermione Granger walk away, as he had done five years ago after their graduation. Back then, she had walked to her friends and boyfriend, and he'd never seen or heard from her again. He didn't blame her for forgetting about him so easily. She'd left Hogwarts and gone on to live a life filled with work and friends; he'd returned to an empty Manor with nobody but his house-elf to keep him company.

But now she had stumbled into his life again, and he had just spent one of the most enjoyable afternoons in years in her company. He smiled, already compiling a note in his mind to send her tonight. Maybe she'd agree to dinner. Or was it too soon for dinner? Lunch, then. Not that it mattered to him, he had all the time in the world. He was almost certain she'd accept. Almost.

His eyes followed her until she entered the Weasley joke shop and the closed door obstructed his view.

He was about to Disapparate when someone behind him coughed and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me."

Theo turned around and came face to face with a tall, bulky blond man with strangely dark eyes. He smoothed his face into a mask of polite disinterest. "May I help you?"

"I happened to overhear some of your conversation with the young lady who just left," the man said, with a toothy smile that reminded Theo of a manticore. "You're looking for a job?"

Theo's mask of polite disinterest morphed into one of polite but wary curiosity and he nodded. The man, who had an American drawl the likes of which Theo had only ever heard in some Muggle movies, smiled even wider. "Then I might have something for you."


	2. The wrong name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta love to Maloreiy

****

* * *

 

**2\. The wrong name**

* * *

 

"We can't discuss this here. I have a room at the Leaky Cauldron, come along and I'll explain." The man started walking towards the pub without looking back, confident Theo would follow him there.

Theo hesitated only for a moment. He had promised Hermione he'd find them something exciting to do. Maybe he wouldn't have to place an advert in the Prophet after all. He studied the man's back as they strode along. He was about twice as broad as the average wizard and at least a head taller than Theo himself. 'Probably giant blood in the family,' he thought as the entry to the Leaky Cauldron materialised before them. The idea didn't bother him as such, but he did slip his wand into a pocket he could reach more easily.

The barkeeper hardly seemed to notice them as they went up the stairs to a shabby room on the top floor. The bed didn't seem large enough to suit such a man, but the army of clothes and miscellaneous objects that cluttered the floor did suggest it was in use.

Theo sat down on a rickety chair, crossed his legs and carefully leaned back with a studied air of nonchalance. He waited patiently while the other man whisked his wand out, banished the clutter to one corner of the room and made himself more comfortable on the bed. It creaked ominously under his weight.

Dark, beady eyes studied him in silence. Theo forced himself to remain motionless under the scrutiny and quickly checked that his Occlumency shields were intact. But the man made no attempt to read his mind.

"The name's Carruthers. I've been in England for a few months now, seeing to some family business. But I find myself in need of assistance, and I think an intelligent young man like yourself would be just what I'm looking for."

Theo brushed his nails on the shirt he had forgotten to transfigure back into a robe and studied them intently. He gave no reply, though he was burning with curiosity.

"So then I was in that quaint little bookstore and I happened to hear you speak to that little lady you were with, and I thought, Simon, that's the man you need. So I followed you out and waited until you said goodbye to the girl." He grinned, showing too many teeth.

"And here I am," Theo drawled, his upper-class English accent a sharp contrast with the Southern burr of his possible employer. He swept an arm out to encompass the room and looked around with faint distaste. "Waiting for you to tell me what you would want me to do."

Irritation flashed in Carruthers' eyes but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "The job itself isn't too onerous. I want you to travel to a few out of the way places around the world, make sure you are seen. All expenses paid, of course, and a six-figure sum for your trouble."

Theo slowly sat up, not at all certain what to make of that proposal. His blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What's the catch?"

Carruthers smiled another one of his too-toothy smiles and Theo had to suppress the unease that settled in his stomach.

"You will travel under the name of my associate. I have some… business interests to protect, and I need him here. But if he went travelling, it would tempt interested parties to follow him, and leave me to conduct my business in peace."

Theo's shoulders tensed and his hands moved slowly up and down his legs until his right hand only naturally seemed to glide into his pocket. He grasped his wand firmly in hand. He didn't believe the man. He could feel something else was going on. His face, however, only displayed mild curiosity.

"I understand. But surely that cannot be worth a six-figure sum, and all expenses paid travel? If we are to work together, Mr. Carruthers, you mustn't keep anything back. Tell me exactly what you expect of me."

The American frowned slightly but then laughed a fake congenial laugh. "I should have known you were too clever. Yes, there is more. You would travel to some of the most remote and most dangerous places in the world. The high Andes, the African deserts… It's not a sightseeing trip." He paused.

Theo raised his eyebrows in question. All his instincts screamed at him that there was still something more going on.

"And you would be expected to be Polyjuiced. All the time. You can leave England as yourself but as soon as you reach your first destination, you will take Polyjuice and change into my associate and pretend to be him. This shouldn't take more than a few weeks. The six-figure sum is to cover any injuries the prolonged taking of Polyjuice might cause. And of course you will not be able to tell anyone about this. We will have a magical contract to that effect. An Unbreakable Vow, in fact."

Theo tilted his head thoughtfully. It sounded dubious at best, but what was an adventure without a dubious start? Still, an Unbreakable Vow was no laughing matter and not something any wizard worth his salt would agree to lightly.

"How about my companion?"

"Pardon?"

"The woman you saw me with. What would be her role?"

The American balled his hands into fists and quickly tried to hide them behind his back. His congenial smile was strained now, and his voice sounded a little harsher than it had before.

"I'm afraid the job offer is just for you. I have no work for the girl."

Theo rose abruptly.

"Then I'm afraid I cannot help you. I will not accept any work without her. Thank you for the offer." He made for the door but the American, notwithstanding his bulky frame, was just a fraction quicker.

"Hold on! Maybe we can come to an agreement and find something for her to do. Don't be so hasty, mister…" He trailed off expectantly.

Theo knew, at that point, that he did not want this man to know his name. He grasped at the first name that came into his mind.

"Smith," he said. "Zacharias Smith."

The name had a most peculiar effect on Carruthers. The man froze, incredulity and fear passing over his face in rapid succession. His eyes bulged in their sockets and his face turned an unhealthy shade of purple. A moment later, Theo had the man's wand against his throat.

* * *

Hermione stepped out of the Floo at the Burrow and was immediately engulfed in a warm embrace.

"Hermione, dear, I'm so happy you've come. How have you been?" Molly Weasley held her at arm's length and eyed her with a faint frown. "Are you eating enough? You're looking very tired, too. Are they working you too hard at the Ministry? You shouldn't let them, dear. I'm sure you do more than enough." Then the woman smiled and hugged her again. "I really am happy to see you. Will you stay for dinner? Ginny's in her room, you can go straight up." Before Hermione could say anything at all, she'd disappeared into the kitchen and left her alone in the living room.

Hermione chuckled and shook her head, as always a little overwhelmed by Molly's motherly behaviour. She made her way up the winding, creaking stairs until she reached the first landing and knocked on Ginny's door. It still had a faded poster of Gwenog Jones on the outside.

Ginny threw the door open and dragged Hermione inside. "You're late! Never mind, I'm still unpacking. Mum offered but I thought it might be best that I separate out the laundry and make sure I didn't leave anything in my pockets." She grinned mischievously.

Hermione sat down on the bed and watched as Ginny checked each and every item of clothing and then threw it on a messy pile. She looked tanned, athletic, and completely and utterly herself again. When she'd left with the Harpies, almost a year ago now, she'd still been heartbroken from the break-up with Harry. Hermione suspected she regretted the loss of the idea of a life with Harry more than the loss of Harry himself, but she never doubted the real hurt it had caused her friend. It didn't help that their break-up, too, had stayed in the headlines of every newspaper and magazine except the Quibbler for weeks on end.

"How have you been? How was your tour? Remind me, was it America or Australia?"

"Both. I told you the Milwaukee Thunderbirds wanted me to join them for a season after their coach had seen me at the Harpies' Australian matches. It sounded like good fun so they let me go for three months. Those Americans really have the strangest words. Do you know they call Muggles No-Majs? Took me a while to figure out what they meant." She looked confused for a moment, then shrugged off the thought and smiled at Hermione. "I really had a great time. The Americans play a tactically different game. I've learned so much while I was there. It really was the perfect cure for…" She stopped, flushed bright red and looked away, embarrassed.

"I can't even talk about it now, I made such a spectacle of myself," she said quietly.

Hermione remembered the public love declarations, the desperate letters Ginny had sent Harry, all the times she had shown up at his office in the Ministry only to be escorted out and having to relive the humiliation again and again in tabloids that never failed to capture the event. It had been very painful for Harry, too, and Hermione was grateful neither of the two ever asked her to choose between them. Probably because they both knew Hermione would pick Harry, who was her brother in all but blood.

She'd tried to distract Ginny and convince her to move on, but the media circus that surrounded their break-up made that almost impossible. The Harpies' Australian tour had come at just the right time to take her away and give both her and Harry the time to heal and prepare to move on.

Hermione still felt a mix of guilt and relief that the break-up between her and Ron hadn't been half so painful. They had grown apart and slowly realised that though they loved each other, they had no future together. She'd wanted love that swept her off her feet, kisses that made the world fade into nothing, long discussions about the latest Wizengamot decisions. He'd wanted to settle, raise children, talk about Quidditch and the latest scandal at the Ministry. They were too incompatible, but that hadn't made their break-up any easier.

She was glad the Weasley family still accepted her as a daughter in their midst, and she and Ron had slowly begun to rebuild their friendship after a few months of silence and awkward avoidance. Ginny leaving had helped, as she had one less reason to come to the Burrow once her friend was gone.

Ginny's voice woke her from her reverie. "Anyway, what's been going on with you? It seems like I haven't heard from you in ages. Tell me everything! I want all the latest goss."

Hermione grinned and let herself fall back on the bed, her eyes tracing the faint outlines of posters that had long been taken down as she thought of what had happened since her last letter. Or rather, what had happened since her last letter that didn't involve Harry. She wasn't sure she could mention him casually just yet.

"I ran into Theodore Nott today." The words were out of her mouth before her brain could stop them.

"Theodore Nott? Remind me…"

"That Slytherin I studied with in eight year? You know, tall, blond, handsome…"

"Oh yes, him. He was quite nice, actually, for a Slytherin."

"Hmmm. He literally knocked me over in Diagon Alley. It was so busy, you know what the last weekend before school is like. I really shouldn't have gone but I wanted this book and - "

"Yes, yes, whatever, tell me more about the handsome Slytherin," Ginny interrupted impatiently.

Hermione's cheeks flushed.

"You're blushing! You like him, don't you? Go on, admit it. When will you see him again?"

Hermione sighed. "I don't know, Gin. We just started talking, decided to avoid the Diagon Alley crowds and went for an ice cream elsewhere. And it was nice. I had fun. We haven't really said anything about meeting again but I'm pretty sure I'll hear from him soon. He promised to owl."

Ginny hooted triumphantly and dropped onto the bed next to Hermione, all thoughts of sorting laundry forgotten.

"You did show him you were interested, didn't you? You always were so horrible at flirting. You know no man is going to make a move on the Great Hermione Granger unless he is encouraged. Did you flirt? Did you kiss? Tell me all."

Hermione only laughed and shook her head. "There isn't much more to tell, Gin. We talked, we had ice cream, we talked about school and work and lemon juice." She allowed herself a reminiscent smile. "We bought books. Then I came here."

"Not much more to tell _yet_ ," Ginny teased.

"Indeed. Nothing much to tell _yet,_ " Hermione repeated. "And you'll be the first to know when there is."

"When? Not if? I'm glad to hear it. I'm glad you're moving on, Hermione. Merlin knows my brother has."

"And you?" Hermione asked softly. "Have you moved on?"

Ginny laughed. "I have other things to keep me occupied now. But what was that you said about lemon juice?"

* * *

"What did you just say?" Carruthers ground out through clenched teeth.

His wand was pressed painfully against the hollow of Theo's throat, but when he tried to back away, the wand just followed.

Theo tried to think quickly. Clearly Zacharias Smith had been the wrong name to say, but the American's reaction was baffling at the very least. His face remained passive and he enunciated the words slowly and clearly, wondering what Carruthers would do next.

"I said, my name is Zacharias Smith."

The next words that came out of the American's mouth were, however, wholly unexpected. "How much do you know?"

The wand poked dangerously hard at his windpipe and he swallowed with difficulty.

"I can't say much," he said, truthfully. It would, after all, be rather painful to speak with a wand obstructing his air flow.

"Don't play games with me, boy. Tell me what you know, now, or you won't live to see another day."

Theo had grown up with a Death Eater father and had seen worse threats issued with much more conviction, so he wasn't too concerned about his situation. He still had a firm grasp on his own wand so he could Disapparate at any moment, but this meeting had just become a lot more interesting and he wanted to draw out this strange conversation just a little bit longer. Something unusual was going on here. His curiosity was piqued.

"Who blabbed? That girlfriend of his? I knew she was too weak for the work."

Theo carefully shook his head and managed to move away a little from the heavily breathing man. "No, she didn't say anything."

"Then who?" growled Carruthers, advancing on Theo as he tried to edge away.

"Maybe Zacharias Smith is just a name I happened to hear today, and I know nothing at all." Theo smiled smugly at the incredulous look Carruthers shot him. It really was amazing how people hardly ever believed you when you told the truth.

But it seemed Theo had tested the patience of the American long enough.

"If you won't tell me, someone else will make you talk. _Stupefy!_ "

Theo quickly rolled out of the way and fired two blasting curses in quick succession.

They blew huge holes in the wall but Carruthers came out of the cloud of dust unharmed and he fired another Stupefy in Theo's direction.

Theo quickly yelled, " _Protego!"_ and was just about to flee when he was hit by a Leg-Locker curse. He muttered the counter-curse, aimed his wand at the wardrobe and slammed it against the man with all the force he could muster. It only delayed Carruthers a short while. At that moment, Theo realised he had underestimated the American.

"I don't want to hurt you," Carruthers growled through the sound of breaking glass and crunching wood, "but you leave me no choice."

Theo tried to make it out to the balcony from which he knew he could Disapparate but just before he reached it he was hit by a Cutting Hex in the back. He stumbled onto the balcony, his shirt getting wet in seconds and clinging to his skin. The pain sliced through him with vicious abandon, increasing with every heartbeat. He vaguely realised he only had that one chance to get away, and a moment later he had landed in his bed, dizzy with pain, blood loss and the strange events of the past hour. A house-elf appeared at his bedside and squeaked in alarm.

"Master… What did Master do? How can Fliss help Master?"

Theo knew he was about to pass out and he needed help - but who to trust? The Healers at St. Mungo's were as likely as not to heal him, old prejudices still running deep. But maybe…

"Granger. Find Hermione Granger. Make sure she's alone. Bring her here. Tell her what happened and bring her…" His voice faded and his eyes rolled back.

Fliss wrung her ears in distress as she looked at her master and the blood that kept flowing. With a snap of her fingers she placed him in a protective bubble that would keep him alive and then she disappeared from the room with a loud pop, in search of Hermione Granger.

 


	3. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beta thanks to Maloreiy. Hope you enjoy!

****

* * *

 

**3\. Questions**

* * *

 

 

Hermione had managed to bow out of dinner with the Weasleys with the excuse that she had a prior engagement. That the prior engagement was her new book, she did not specify. She Apparated into her living room and sagged wearily down on the sofa. She always felt exhausted after a visit to the Burrow. She loved the Weasleys to bits, but they were so energetic and so loud that she really needed some time to recover.

Time, however, was not what she got.

"Missy Hermione?" squeaked a voice.

Hermione jumped up, wand in hand, and stared around wildly. Who could have broken through her wards? Her heart beat a loud tattoo that she was sure the intruder could hear from a mile off, but she still couldn't see who it was.

A tiny house-elf dressed in a maid's uniform stepped out from behind her sofa.

"Fliss is being sorry, Miss, but Master needs yous help."

Hermione lowered her wand and eyed the house-elf suspiciously. "Who is your master, then? And how did you find me?"

"Master told Fliss you was to always be entering the Manor if yous came calling. Master is Master Theo, Miss. Master Theo being hurt, bleeds so much. Please you be coming now!" The elf tugged at her ears and her big violet eyes filled with tears.

Hermione needed only a moment to order her thoughts before she whirled into action. She ran haphazardly from one room to another, Summoning all the potions and creams she could think of, before extending her hand to the house-elf, who promptly Apparated them to Nott's bedroom.

Hermione's eyes were instantly drawn to the pale figure on the bed surrounded by a soft blue glow. She sucked in a breath when she realised the sheets underneath him were not just dark and damp but soaked in blood.

"What happened? Why didn't you get a Healer?" she asked, not really expecting an answer. Fliss gave her a little push towards the bed and she started walking, mentally sorting through the potions in her bag and dismissing the ones she wouldn't need.

"Master be appearing in bed like this," Fliss squeaked. "He bleeding. He asking for you. Telling me to wait for you alone, so I goes to redhead family house, but you not alone. So I waits at your home. Master not trusting Healers. They being nasty to Master before."

Hermione reached out a hand hesitantly, just stopping short of touching him. "What's that blue light?"

"Elf magics, Missy. I keeps Master alive. Yous be hurrying, Missy. My magics not strong for much longer."

"I can touch him? Where is the wound?"

"Yes, Missy. He being hurt on his back. Fliss now be excused, please, Missy? Fliss very very tired now." The elf wobbled on her feet and Hermione nodded, her fingers deftly feeling Nott's wrist for a pulse. It was faint, but it was there.

She banished the blood-soaked shirt and turned him around on his bed with a quick spell. He hovered about a foot above the bed, still enveloped in the shimmery elf magic. The gash ran from the top of his left shoulder all the way down to his hip. Blood trickled down, leaving traces on his bare back. It was a miracle he hadn't bled out, since the wound still hadn't closed. How long could he have been here, only barely alive?

Hermione angrily shook her head to clear her thoughts, and focused on the man before her. _Heal him first, ask questions later._ She pointed her wand at the wound.

"Vulnera sanentur. Vulnera sanentur." She repeated the words for what seemed like eternity as the gash in his flesh slowly, ever so slowly, knitted together. She could hear the bones shift and the muscles reconnect as she treated the wound and had to swallow back her nausea. "Vulnera sanentur. Vulnera sanentur." Her voice broke and she choked back a sob before continuing again. "Vulnera sanentur. Vulnera sanentur."

She finished just as the blue glow faded.

"Blood-Replenishing Potion. Merlin be damned! Where is that bloody bottle?" She rifled through her bag until her hand closed around the bottle she wanted.

She wanted to turn him on his back and make him drink it, but decided against it. It might be better for him to be out just a little longer. She wasn't even sure she could wake him up at this point, and she didn't want to try for fear that she would fail.

But if he wasn't awake he might choke on the potion. And if she didn't give him the potion he would certainly die. She remembered Molly had once told her about a spell that could transport a potion straight into a patient's stomach and combed through her memories to find the incantation.

" _Portus medicamento_." She shakily pointed her wand first at the potion, then at Nott's stomach. Soon his cheeks began to regain some colour. Hermione drew a deep breath of relief.

She wanted to lower him onto the bed, but remembered the bloodstained sheets. A quick _Tergeo_ took care of them, and then, finally, Theodore Nott lay peacefully asleep in his bed, his body healing and recovering from near death.

Hermione sagged onto the floor, suddenly exhausted. Healing always took so much energy from her. She closed her eyes for just a minute and leaned her head against the mattress.

* * *

Hermione woke up from a light and fitful sleep when Nott's hand fell off his mattress and hit her head rather hard. She blinked, confused, and then remembered where she was and why.

The curtains weren't drawn and it was dark outside, but the moon gave her enough light to see. She turned around and rose up on her knees to look at the man whose life she had saved only that evening. He no longer looked deathly pale, but the dark scar on his back stood out in the moonlight. His chest rose and sagged slightly with every breath, and his face was contorted in a grimace of discomfort. She stroked his hair out of his face, and the touch seemed to soothe him instantly.

Hermione withdrew her hand quickly before she could let it linger and felt around the floor for her wand. "I just want to cast a bloody _Lumos,"_ she muttered to herself, just as her fingertips touched the well-known vine wood shaft.

Instantly, the hearth erupted into flames, and sconces on the walls lighted with a soft reddish glow.

She blinked, surprised. "Of course. Of course you'd only have to say _Lumos_ in a wizard's house to turn on the lights." She sighed and continued talking to the sleeping patient. "Well, Theodore, what scrapes did you get into since we parted ways? You only had a few hours, how could you end up in such a mess? That was one very nasty curse that hit you, you know. You could have died if your house-elf hadn't found a way to keep you alive. I must remember to ask her about that, it's just fascinating. Didn't know they could do such a thing."

"D'you've missed me?" Theodore's garbled voice came from the pillow.

Hermione froze and bit her lip, embarrassed. She had a habit of speaking her thoughts when she was alone, but it was always mortifying when someone overheard.

Theodore stirred and tried to turn onto his back, but Hermione quickly pressed him down again with both hands. His skin was warm and soft. She told herself she only noticed that because she had expected it to be feverish and clammy.

He tried to push her hands away, but she wouldn't have it. "Don't move. You were seriously injured."

"So you'd have missed me?" he asked again.

"I certainly wouldn't have been pleased." Hermione noticed the grin on Theodore's face and couldn't help smiling back. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was trampled by a herd of hippogriffs."

Hermione rummaged through her bag looking for Essence of Dittany. "I'm guessing that isn't what happened?"

"No. If you'd let me sit up, I could tell you what happened," Theodore's muffled and irritated voice told her.

"Let me just treat your wound with Dittany, that might sort out the scar. Then I'll help you sit up. If you manage that, we can talk."

The strong, acidic smell of the healing herb filled the room as soon as she opened the little bottle. She carefully sprinkled some drops onto his back and started to massage it into his skin. His muscles rippled beneath her fingers, and she couldn't help but admire how well she had healed him.

Of course, that was all she admired. And yes, it did take that long to massage that whole scar. It did run all the way down his back, after all.

* * *

A few minutes later, Theo was sitting up, leaning against the headboard, waiting for his dizziness to pass. Hermione had offered him a cup of herbal tea as soon as he opened his eyes again.

She sat down on the edge of his mattress and looked at him expectantly.

Theo sipped slowly. The room had only just stopped spinning. He tried to remember what had happened, but his head pounded painfully as he tried to think.

"Well?" came Hermione's impatient voice.

That seemed to snap his brain into focus.

"We said goodbye in Diagon Alley. I was about to go home and someone started talking to me. He had overheard us talking and offered me a job." Theo frowned, trying to remember the details.

"And you just went off on an adventure without me? Is that why you almost got yourself killed?"

Theo winced at the shrill noise but decided to let it pass. He could hear from the way her voice wobbled that she was upset. "No, that's not what happened. Let me explain, Hermione. Just give me some time. I want to get the details right."

Hermione looked at her hands, chastised. "Sorry."

Theo took another sip of his herbal tea and began to tell the story of his meeting with Carruthers.

Hermione didn't interrupt even once, but she had to bite her tongue to do so. Her impatience was evident in the nervous movements of her hands.

"What did he look like? Why did you use Zach Smith's name? Are you sure you didn't mention my name? Maybe you can show me in a Pensieve? How could you let your guard down?"

The questions followed in quick succession and Theo didn't even try to remember them all.

"I don't know why I said Zacharias Smith. Must have heard the name somewhere. Wasn't there a Hufflepuff in our year with that name?"

Hermione let out an exclamation. "No, wait, I told you that name today. Remember when we were having ice cream in the park? Didn't I tell you that Smith was the Auror assigned to my cases, and that I had sent memos up to his desk for weeks before they told me he had disappeared?"

Theo's eyes lit up. "Of course, that's why that name came to mind. But why would it have had such a peculiar effect on Carruthers? Did he know Smith?"

Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully. Then she sprang up and said, excitedly, "Of course! He wanted you to pretend to be Smith. Why else would he react so strangely? He thinks he's found a fool just intelligent enough to pull off impersonating someone for a few weeks, and then that fool gives him the name of the man he would have been impersonating."

"Hermione, that doesn't make sense at all. Why would he want me to pretend to be Zach Smith? As far as I know he never amounted to much, even as an Auror. Not bad at his job, by any means, but not exceptional either. He's from a good family but not very rich or well-known. Why bother?"

Hermione shook her head, frustrated. "Damn, you have a point. I don't know, Theodore. But there is a way to find out."

Theo sat up a little straighter. "You're not going after Carruthers yourself, Hermione."

"No, no, of course not," Hermione said, in such a dismissive tone that Theo doubted she had really heard what he said. "No, we have to find Zacharias Smith ourselves. Or at least find out more about him and who saw him last."

"That's… actually not a bad idea," Theo conceded. "But not right now, Hermione. It must be the middle of the night." His hand went to his forehead and softly massaged the tension away.

Hermione took a step back. "Of course not now," she said. "You need to sleep some more and recover. You really did lose a lot of blood, Theodore. Stay in bed, tomorrow, too. We'll investigate on Monday."

"Don't you have to work on Monday?"

"Oh, yes." Hermione grinned. "But he worked at the Ministry and so do I. I can start there."

"Be careful, Hermione."

"Don't you worry about me. I'll send you some Strengthening Potions tomorrow, you just rest and make sure you get better. Your house-elf can take care of the rest. I had better go back to my flat and get some sleep."

Theo wanted to protest but thought better of it. It would be too strange to insist she stay. They had only just met again that morning. He still didn't know why he had asked for her and not, say, Draco, who was equally gifted in potions and healing. Clearly, the blood loss had made it impossible to think straight.

"Goodnight, then, Hermione."

Hermione smiled and gathered her things. "Goodnight, then, Theodore."

* * *

Hermione Granger breezed into work with an energy she hadn't felt since she had first started. Gone was the ennui, the frustration, the boredom. Instead, she was brimming with excitement at the task ahead of her. She quickly worked her way through her Monday morning paperwork so she could get started on her mission. She couldn't help giggling - though more from nerves than amusement - at the idea that _she_ was now on a mission of sorts: Find out what happened to Zach Smith.

Her nose curled up in distaste as she remembered the boy from her school days. He had been quite an irritating little shit, then. She wasn't sure he had improved much. On the few occasions they had worked together, he had been professional but rather annoying. Still, it offered her the chance to do something interesting, for a change, and so she took the Ministry lifts up to the second floor to visit her friends in the Auror Department.

Harry was out, but Ron was around that morning. They nestled themselves in the kitchen corner with steaming cups of coffee.

"Shame you couldn't stay for dinner yesterday," Ron said. "I arrived just after you'd left. Mum went on to me about how letting you go was the biggest mistake of my life-for the entire evening." He sounded a little resentful.

Hermione chuckled. "And if I'd stayed she'd have spent the evening dropping not-so-subtle hints to get us together again. I take it you haven't told her about Tracey?"

Ron shuddered in mock horror. "No. I want just a little more time without those not-so-subtle marriage-and-grandkids hints of hers."

Amused, Hermione asked, "Things going well, then?"

"Can't complain. How about you?"

She hesitated a second too long.

"Go on, tell me all about him…" Ron wriggled his eyebrows with mock-interest. "Tall, dark and handsome?"

"Pretty much so," Hermione admitted with a laugh. "But too early to say much more. How's work?"

"Too much to do, too few people to do it. You know how it goes."

"Yeah, it seems my requests always end up in the bottom of the pile. I remember a few weeks ago I came up here to complain about Zach Smith, because he hadn't been responding to my memos, only to find out he hadn't been at work for ages and nobody had bothered to let me know!" She gave a dramatic sigh and glanced up through her eyelashes to gauge his reaction.

"Yeah, that was strange, that was. One day he just didn't turn up for work. Trace removed, owls returned unsuccessfully, nobody's seen or heard from him. We searched for a long time, but every enquiry came up short."

Hermione let out a careful breath and tried not to sound too eager. "When was this? I'm sure neither you nor Harry ever mentioned it."

"Ah." Ron's ears turned bright red. "That was about the time we didn't speak to each other much. A few months ago? Maybe Harry didn't mention it because we were on the case together and he didn't want to hurt you by mentioning me."

Hermione nodded, then bit her lower lip thoughtfully. "I just don't see how anyone can just disappear in this day and age. Didn't he write to his parents?" A sudden memory flashing through her head inspired her to add, "Or his girlfriend?"

Ron lazily _Accio'ed_ the coffee pot and refilled both their cups.

Hermione's eyes flashed irritatedly when she noticed the careless splatters of coffee on the floor, and it was all she could do to refrain from whipping out her wand and cleaning up the mess. But she knew from experience that any such reaction could result in yet another row, and the newly rekindled friendship between her and Ron was still too fragile to deal with that.

"His father died in the war. His mother hadn't heard from him, but said he was away on some mission or other. She seemed convinced we should know where he was and was very upset when she realised we really didn't have a clue. She hadn't heard from him in a few weeks. No girlfriend that we could find, either. He didn't seem to have many friends. Even his partner, Terry Boot, wasn't particularly fond of him. He always was a bit of a Flobberworm, you know: Slimy, and nobody really knows what they are for, yet there they are, existing anyway."

Hermione snorted and almost upset her coffee cup. Her eye fell on the clock at the other side of the room and she drew in a sharp breath. "Oh, I should be getting back to my office. Do tell Harry I came by. See you later, Ron!" She quickly gulped down her coffee and ran back to her desk, eager to write down all the information Ron had given her, even though it wasn't much.

* * *

She related her discoveries to Theodore over lunch at a quiet cafe off Diagon Alley.

"Maybe we should go and have a chat with his mother, then? Just to get her side of the story?" he suggested between two bites of delicious pasta.

Hermione nodded vigorously.

"I wonder what girlfriend our friend Carruthers was referring to, then, if Smith apparently wasn't in a relationship."

Hermione shrugged. "Well, just because the Aurors couldn't find a girlfriend doesn't mean there isn't one. He wasn't especially friendly with any of his colleagues, so he may not have told any of them. And if the relationship had just started, or if his mother was as much of a meddler as Molly Weasley, he might have kept the relationship secret on purpose. No, we shouldn't dismiss the idea of a girlfriend just yet."

They went back and forth over the information Hermione had gathered and what might be their best approach, as they finished their meal.

"Where are you off to now?" Hermione asked, as they walked out of the cafe and she started to make her way back to the Ministry.

"I thought I might ask around Knockturn Alley. I still have some contacts there, they might be able to help me find out if he was involved in any Dark Magic."

"Oh, that's a good idea. I'll see if I can find Terry Boot this afternoon and talk to him."

Theodore nodded approval.

"See you later, then," Hermione said with a smile, and before she could stop herself, she found she'd risen onto her toes and kissed Theodore's cheek. She pulled back, a little flustered and surprised by her own behaviour. But Theodore only smiled that crooked half-smile that made her heart skip a beat, and turned towards Knockturn Alley. Hermione Disapparated with a distracted bang.

* * *

Theo smiled to himself all the way to Knockturn Alley. His first stop was the apothecary he frequented. It was the only one that had seen fit to serve him in those first years after the war, and because their stock was always good, though likely not always legally obtained, he kept returning.

The little dragon mobile above the door roared when he entered and the proprietor, a Mr Oglander, appeared behind the counter.

"Mr Nott, how can I help you today?"

He bought a pound of fresh newt eyes and three fistfuls of ground Billywig root before meandering towards his goal.

"How's business been lately? I haven't had the chance to come in person as often as I'd like."

"I can't complain, Mr Nott. It isn't what it used to be, but I can't complain."

"I recently recommended your apothecary to a friend of mine who was looking for some rare ingredient he couldn't find in Diagon Alley. Zach Smith. Did he come by?"

The man seemed to think for a moment, then shook his head. "The name doesn't ring a bell, I'm afraid."

"Ah, well, maybe he found it elsewhere. Thank you, Mr Oglander."

The man bowed Theo out of the shop with his usual civility. Theo never noticed the shrewd brown eyes that followed him down the Alley. When he entered the next shop, the man returned to the back room, scribbled a note and sent an owl on his way.

Theo entered shop after shop, dropping the name of Zacharias Smith as often as he could in any conversation, but nobody reacted at all. He was disappointed that he didn't have any progress to report to Hermione. He walked back towards Diagon Alley, lost in thoughts.

_I wonder how Granger is getting on, prodding Boot for information. Maybe he'll be able to tell her more than Weasley._

_I can't believe she kissed me. Peck on the cheek, fine, but still… That blush on her cheeks was adorable. I wonder if she'll do it again._

He didn't see the shimmer that betrayed the presence of someone under a Concealment Charm quietly following him. When a hand grabbed him and side-Disapparated him, he didn't have a chance to escape.


	4. An Auror Missing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Maloreiy for betaing. Any remaining mistakes are my own. Hope you enjoy!

  

  

 

* * *

 

**4\. An Auror Missing**

 

* * *

 

Hermione had just decided that it was time for her to go up to the Auror Department and try to talk to Terry Boot when a silver stag erupted from her office door.

"Can you come to Number Twelve urgently?" Harry's voice asked before the animal faded away.

Hermione stared at the place where the stag had been and blinked. What was Harry doing at Grimmauld Place at this time of day?

She decided to leave Terry Boot for another day and make it an early night. The new sense of adventure made her reckless enough to skip a few hours of work.

She travelled home via the Ministry Floo grates and Apparated to Number Twelve from there. Harry met her in the corridor, an unusually grave look on his face. They exchanged whispered greetings - Walburga Black still didn't like Mudbloods and intruders - before entering the kitchen, where Theodore sat on a chair, gagged, arms bound and wand out of reach. His blue eyes shimmered with anger and reproach.

"Theodore? What the hell, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, running up to Theodore to free him. She ran straight into an invisible wall and turned around furiously, rubbing her nose to ease the pain of the sudden impact. It only made her even more angry.

"What's wrong with you? Why did you tie him up like that?"

Harry sat down slowly, his wand twirling in his fingers.

Hermione felt her own wand fly out of her pocket before she could stop it.

"We need to talk."

"That much is obvious." Hermione crossed her arms and glared at him.

"This is serious, Hermione. I need to ask you some questions." He paused and ran a hand over his face, pushing his glasses askew.

Hermione pursed her lips and tapped her foot on the floor impatiently. "Go on, then, shoot. And hurry up so we can end this charade."

"Won't you sit down?"

"Harry James Potter, stop stalling and tell me why you have Theodore Nott bound and gagged in your kitchen."

"How do you know Nott?" Harry's voice took on a steely tone that startled Hermione. She had never been on the receiving end of his interrogations before.

"Theodore Nott was a Slytherin in our year, Harry. You know that as well as I do."

Harry nodded. "But I was never on a first-name basis with him. Can you explain how that happened?"

Hermione sighed and leaned one hip against the table. "We both returned to Hogwarts after the war. We studied together. We became friends."

"You never told Ron or me."

"Really? Must have slipped my mind. Might have had something to do with your unreasonable prejudice against Slytherins at the time." She couldn't quite keep the biting sarcasm out of her tone. "We lost touch after graduation, anyway."

Harry coughed and shifted in his chair, his bright green eyes still fixed on Hermione. "And you haven't seen him since?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "We ran into each other over the weekend, on Saturday, to be exact. We had ice cream together, talked a little, decided to stay in touch. We've since had lunch together - today, by the way - and I also visited him at his house. Now will you tell me what this is all about, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "I can't, not yet. Please, tell me everything that happened since you ran into him last Saturday." He waited expectantly, but in vain. He noticed the stubborn look in her eyes and sighed. "Hermione, I wouldn't ask this if it wasn't important. Trust me. Tell me all the details, no matter how silly or trivial. I need to know."

Hermione studied her oldest friend with pursed lips. The silence seemed to stretch and stretch, until she nodded decisively and pulled a chair out from under the table.

"So, what happened was this," she began as she sat down. She told Harry the whole story - the conversation in the park, their decision to search for adventure, finding the house-elf in her living room and saving Theodore's life. She explained what he had told her about the American and his reaction to the name Zacharias Smith, and how they had decided to start looking for him, since he seemed to have disappeared.

Harry listened in complete silence, his attention never straying from her story. When she finished he sat back and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with a frown. Hermione just stared at him. She had never seen her friend so conflicted.

"I believe you," he said, after a long silence. He returned her wand and freed Theodore from his bindings. "I apologise," he said to Theodore, holding out his hand. "I'm sure you will understand my reaction when I've explained, but I am sorry I caused you such inconvenience. I had to be sure, you know."

Theodore hesitated, but shook Harry's hand. Then he rubbed his wrists with a grimace. "Those ropes were damned tight, Potter."

"They were meant to be," Harry replied with a shrug.

Hermione cleared her throat and the two men looked at her. "Are you going to explain why you tied Theodore up and why you asked me to come here in the middle of the afternoon?"

Harry handed Theodore his wand and then cast a wordless warding charm around the kitchen. Hermione could feel the magic flow around her and settle at the edges of the room. Not even a bug would be able to pass that barrier without setting off an alarm.

Harry smiled a little sheepishly. "Let's have some tea, and then I'll tell you a story."

* * *

Refreshments provided, Harry sighed and sat down again. "I'm sure you remember the political mess both Kingsley and I got into six months ago," he began. "We were accused of conduct unbefitting the position we held in the Ministry. Bribes, hushing up crimes; the list the Prophet published was endless and wildly exaggerated compared to the actual accusations. It became a huge media storm. We were both cleared, of course. Neither Kingsley nor I would ever jeopardise our work. Not after the War. But mud sticks." Harry nodded to himself, his knuckles white around his maroon cup. "Yes, mud sticks."

Hermione remembered that terrible time. Harry, who had only been Deputy Head for two months, had been in the eye of a shitstorm the likes of which Wizarding society had not encountered since the Death Eater trials. And the public ate it all up without question. The Prophet, without outright accusing Harry, implied that he did not deserve his early promotion to one of the most powerful positions in the Ministry - slander that was fuelled by rumours of bribery and blackmail. There had been a very thorough investigation, conducted by the Unspeakables, who scrutinised every aspect of both Kingsley Shacklebolt's and Harry Potter's lives. They had appeared before the Wizengamot, who had cleared them of all charges. But mud sticks.

"There have always been people who were unhappy with my early promotion. Colleagues who started around the same time as me, who have many more years of experience in the field and think a rookie like me would never have received this promotion if it weren't for my name and fame. They are not entirely wrong, of course." Harry laughed drily. "Kingsley wouldn't have dreamed of putting me in this position if it weren't for the War. But the War happened, and I did play the role I did. I know he plans to make me head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in another five years or so, when Robards retires. This is only the first step up. But I did everything right, Hermione. I worked hard, I worked evenings and weekends, I solved cases and brought criminals to justice, and my clearance rate of the past five years is much higher than that of anyone else in the department." Harry slammed his fist on the table, making the various cutlery and crockery stacked upon it tremble noisily. "I _deserved_ this promotion."

"I know, Harry," Hermione said softly. Theodore didn't say anything. His bright blue eyes were fixed on Harry with curiosity.

"There have been other incidents since then. Mistakes that happened, paperwork that went missing, criminals that escaped by the skin of their teeth from a carefully set trap. We've managed to keep it out of the public eye, but it hasn't helped my reputation in the department."

Harry paused and eyed his friend for a brief moment.

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it again. She shifted uneasily in her seat, sipping her tea.

Harry laughed. "What does all this have to do with Zach Smith's disappearance, you wonder?"

Hermione nodded vigorously.

"That is the part I am telling you in the utmost confidence. You must never repeat a word to anyone. Promise me, Hermione. I need your word."

Hermione took her wand from her sleeve and tapped her heart. "I promise on my magic and our friendship I will never tell anyone what you tell me today." A bright golden light surrounded her and then faded.

"And you, Nott."

Theodore tilted his head, considering. "You want me to make a magical promise? On what grounds, Potter? Your story has been very entertaining so far, but I see no need to put my magical soul at risk for this just yet."

Harry shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "You're very welcome to leave," he suggested with a nod towards the kitchen door. "I'll have to Obliviate you if you do, though. There is too much at stake."

"I'd like to see you try," Theodore scoffed, twirling his wand between thumb and forefinger. "I doubt even your great prowess is a match for my Occlumency shields."

Harry was about to retort when Hermione cut in, exasperated.

"Stuff the mine-is-bigger-than-yours crap, boys. Just take the oath, Theodore. You know damn well you're not going to walk away now." She glared at him.

Theodore grinned back, placed the tip of his wand on his heart and said, "I promise on my magic I will not repeat a word you say today, Potter." A bright golden glow flashed around his body and faded. "Now quit the long introduction and tell us about the disappearance of Zach Smith."

Harry slowly took a sip of his now tepid tea, unable to keep a grimace of disgust from his face as he did so. He then equally slowly put the mug on his table and folded his hands in his lap.

"I read the Unspeakable report. It's pretty clear that all these accidents have been engineered. There is a conspiracy going on with the sole purpose of removing Kingsley from his post. We don't know who is involved, we don't know why they want such a thing, but we do know that the accumulation of incidents has led Kingsley to have a much weaker position than he did a year ago. Were he to be challenged today, the Wizengamot would as likely as not depose him. The only reason I don't have the entire Auror team on this case…" He hesitated, a pained look crossing his face.

"Is that you suspect your Aurors of being involved," Hermione finished for him.

Harry nodded gravely.

Theodore whistled, impressed. "Now I see the need for a magical promise."

"And Zacharias Smith?" Hermione prompted.

"I investigated him for months. When I was convinced he was clean, I asked him to infiltrate the conspiracy and find the proof needed to bring whoever was behind it to justice. That was little over three months ago."

"And he disappeared about three months ago."

"Yes, he did. I have every reason to believe he managed to get close to the truth and was discovered." Harry's shoulders sagged. "We haven't been able to find any trace of him. Whoever is involved is using some very Dark Magic to cover up their tracks."

"But why would they have asked me to travel around the world pretending to be him?" Theodore frowned. "That doesn't seem to make sense."

"It certainly would have attracted attention," Harry said. "If Zach Smith suddenly appeared in Peru or in the African desert, we'd start searching there instead of here in Britain."

"So you do have people on the case?" Hermione asked.

"On the missing Auror case, yes. But after five weeks, we'd come no further and I had to assign my Aurors to various other cases. Any trail we had ran cold. Your tale is the closest I have come to any proof he is probably still alive. How else could they make enough Polyjuice to keep Nott transformed for weeks?"

"So what do you want us to do?" Theodore asked, leaning forward with an eager look in his eyes. "You wouldn't tell us all this after demanding a magical promise if you didn't have a plan."

Harry rubbed his face in both hands, knocking his glasses askew. He was silent for a long time. Finally he looked up, replaced his glasses and looked at both Hermione and Theodore with an unusually grave face.

"I've tried to make investigations myself but since we don't know how far reaching this conspiracy is, I don't know who to trust. I tried to send one Auror out and he was immediately discovered. If he isn't dead already, his life is in great danger. And that's on me." Harry paused, his shoulder tensing as if he was carrying a heavy weight. Hermione reached out to squeeze his hand sympathetically.

"They have become more and more daring, and I fear an escalation is imminent. I can't rely on my usual resources. I hate doing this but I feel I have no other choice. You both have come much further than anyone else. You identified another party in the conspiracy, the American who calls himself Carruthers. I knew he was in London and up to no good, but I had no idea he was involved in this. So here's my proposition: You continue your search for Zach Smith."

Hermione sat up a little straighter, her eyes gleaming with eager interest.

"Unofficially, of course," Harry continued hastily, throwing his hands up in the air as if to temper her enthusiasm. "I will deny any knowledge of the two of you doing anything but searching for a former classmate. Maybe you stumble onto something we've missed - or something I've been led to believe the Aurors missed. I know at least one of them is involved with this, so they could have made evidence disappear. Maybe you won't find anything, and, in a way, I hope that will be the case, because these are dangerous people. But if there's one person in the world I trust utterly, Hermione, it's you. I know you can handle yourself in any situation."

Hermione and Theodore shared a look of excitement. He nodded at her and she turned to Harry, a beaming smile on her face.

"Of course we'll help you, Harry! Take down conspirators? Sounds like just the ticket!"

Harry scratched his head, frowning. "Are you sure you're not taking this too lightly, Hermione? Remember that Nott over there was almost killed by that American. These people don't play about."

Hermione rose from her seat and shrugged. "I remember. I did spend a whole night trying to keep him alive, after all. But I'm sure I can handle this. I am, after all, the brightest witch of the age." She grinned. "No conspirators can be a match for my brain."


	5. A distressed mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta love to Maloreiy, as always. Thank you so much for all the comments and reviews! I love reading them!

 

 

 

 

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**5\. A distressed mother**

* * *

 

Hermione and Theo sat in Nott Manor's sumptuous parlour, each nursing their drink of choice - Firewhisky for him and Elven Wine for her.

"We really are off on our own adventure," Hermione said, with a laugh he didn't return.

"Are you quite sure you understand the implications of what Potter told us? We're dealing with people out to take over the Ministry. They want Potter and Shacklebolt out of the way. They've started a smear campaign that is more effective than any other attack can be. They're casting aspersions on Potter's integrity, rekindling rumours of his using Dark Arts to vanquish the Dark Lord. They are implying Shacklebolt hasn't succeeded in weeding out corruption within the Ministry and that he himself fell victim to it by giving Potter that early promotion. This isn't a game, Hermione. I have the scars to prove it."

The laugh melted off Hermione's face instantly. "I do see that," she admitted in a more serious tone. "But there's no point in dwelling on the dangers. We need to move forward, find a way to uncover the plot and stop them." She paused, putting one hand on his arm and looking straight into his impossibly blue eyes. "I didn't mean to ridicule the situation, Theodore. I was just thinking that, not even three days ago, we were sitting in a sunny park, longing for adventure, and now we're in the midst of exactly that. You must agree that the fates have dealt us an interesting hand."

Theo stared at her and didn't say anything for the longest time. Hermione's cheeks heated up under his gaze but she couldn't look away.

"I promised Potter to keep you safe," he said quietly.

The statement surprised her. "Why would you do that?" she whispered, hypnotised by the intensity of his eyes.

Theo hesitated and licked his lips. Hermione's eyes flicked down to his mouth and then back up to meet his gaze. She started to lean towards him, wondering, as she had since their eighth year at Hogwarts, what his lips would feel like against hers.

He coughed and finally turned away, a tinge of pink on his cheeks. "He wouldn't let me leave."

Hermione blinked, confused, and let go of Theodore's arm. She leaned back into her chair and tried to get her thoughts in order. "What? Who?"

"Potter. He wouldn't let me leave until I'd promised to keep you safe. He can be quite intimidating, you know."

Hermione sent him a half-hearted smile and looked away. She wasn't sure whether to be annoyed that Harry made Theodore promise such a thing, or to be flattered that he wanted to protect her. The silence stretched between them, uncomfortable, grating, scratching.

"Dinner being ready, Master." Fliss' squeaky voice rang through the room.

Theodore sprang up from his sofa, as if to run to the dining room immediately. He recollected his manners just in time, turned back to Hermione and held out his hand. "Shall we? I believe Fliss prepared roast duck tonight. We can discuss our next steps during dinner."

Hermione gratefully accepted the hand he extended to help her up, but was disappointed when he let go of her as soon as she was steady on her feet. "The next steps seem obvious to me. We talk to people who knew him."

"Not his colleagues. It's too dangerous. Potter clearly said there's a leak in the Auror Department, and that may well be that Boot guy. Never liked him, anyway."

"Only because he corrected you on that Arithmancy question and you never forgave him," Hermione pointed out. "But I wasn't thinking of his colleagues. What about his parents?"

Theodore considered this as he held open the door to the dining room for Hermione. "Wouldn't the Aurors have talked to them?"

"Probably, but it may be worth talking to them again. And they may have a key to his flat."

"You want to break into his flat?" Theo's eyes sparkled with interest.

"Not break in, exactly. Just… have a look around, maybe?"

"Fine. We'll visit his parents tomorrow," he agreed with a sigh. He suddenly realised that keeping Hermione out of trouble would prove to be more difficult than he had anticipated.

* * *

Hermione had owled Harry that same evening to ask for the address of Zach's parents. The following afternoon found Theodore and herself in a Muggle neighbourhood in Ipswich, a small town to the East of London. The street was lined with slightly dilapidated terraced cottages of the type that Hermione's grandmother used to call a 'two-up-two-down' - two rooms on the ground floor and two on the upper floor.

Theodore looked around curiously. He had been to Muggle London quite often, but this was something else entirely.

"It's Number Fourteen," Hermione said, nudging him towards the correct door. She reached out to press the doorbell.

"What are you going to say?" Theodore asked while the buzz rang through the house.

"What do you mean? I'm going to ask about Smith-" She gestured at the house with some exasperation. Surely it was obvious why they were there?

"Hermione, you can't just turn up here and ask questions about their son, we're not Aurors or police. You need a story. Let me do the talking."

They heard movement indoors and a moment later a frail-looking woman with dark blonde hair done up in a messy bun opened the door.

"Yes?" She looked wearily at the two young people in front of her. "I don't buy nothing on the door."

Theodore wanted to speak but he was cut off by Hermione. "Hello. I wanted to talk to you about your son Zach."

The change in the woman was instantaneous. Her distrusting eyes filled with tears and she clutched at Hermione's sleeve. "My Zach, you've found him? Please tell me you've found him. They keep telling me there's no news, every day, but there has to be, they have to know! I left that world behind during the War, and Zach told me it was safe now, that I should come back, but see how that's worked out for him?" Her sobs turned into loud wails and Hermione threw a horrified look at Theodore, unsure what to do with the hysterical woman.

Theo shook his head with resignation and took the woman by the arm. "Let's go inside, Mrs. Smith, we shouldn't stay out on the street like this. Hermione, why don't you go into the kitchen and make us a cup of tea while Mrs. Smith calms down?" Though his words were a suggestion, his tone brooked no opposition. He glared until she nodded and disappeared into the back of the house, where she guessed the kitchen would be.

Theo sat Mrs. Smith down on her sofa, handed her a tissue, and let her cry on his shoulder. He murmured words of comfort and understanding until she pulled herself together and sat up, wiping the last tears from her eyes and gratefully accepting a strong cup of tea with extra sugar.

"I'm sorry," said Mrs. Smith, still sniffing a little.

Theo made a noncommittal noise and pointedly refused the tea Hermione offered him. She took it herself and sat down on the other sofa, staring at her hands.

"I'm afraid we don't have any news about your son, Mrs. Smith. We came here to ask if you had seen him. He seems to have disappeared a few weeks ago?" Theo said. He let the question linger, and, indeed, Mrs. Smith didn't need a lot of encouragement to unload her feelings.

"They came here three weeks ago to tell me he'd gone missing! What kind of wizards are they, if they can't even find my son? I hadn't heard from him in a while, but he'd told me he was on a job and wouldn't have time to call or visit, so I didn't mind. He's such a good boy, he is. So considerate. Always brings me flowers when he visits. He usually comes by every weekend, you know. Never missed his Sunday roast, he hasn't. But now I haven't seen him in almost two months, and those Aurors can't seem to find him. What's magic for, I ask you, if not to find people?" Her voice rose again, echoing in the small room, and Hermione winced before she could stop herself.

Theo threw her another annoyed look, placed his hand comfortingly on Mrs. Smith's arm and then, firmly but politely, cut her tirade short. "You really haven't seen him in two months? No wonder you are so upset, Mrs. Smith, you must be so worried. I'm so sorry we can't bring you any news."

Mrs. Smith took a deep breath, glanced at Hermione and then focused her attention on Theo. "Who are you?" she asked, the suspicion glinting in her eyes again. "Why are you here?"

"My name is Theodore Nott, and this is Hermione Granger. We're friends of your son's, Mrs. Smith."

"He never mentioned your names." She shrank away from him a little, so Theodore brought out his most charming smile.

"We weren't very close, Mrs. Smith, but we did know each other and talked now and then." He saw Hermione fidget from the corner of his eyes and looked over at her. She opened her mouth but he shook his head, a minute movement unnoticed by the woman next to him. Hermione subsided again and stared at her tea instead.

"But then why are you here?" The stubborn look in her eyes betrayed that the woman was not about to let go.

Theodore shrugged languidly, his mind sorting through excuses at the speed of lightning.

"A book," Hermione blurted out.

The other two looked at her, one curious, the other slightly panicked.

"He borrowed a book of mine, you see," Hermione continued, a little more confident, "and I need it back for my research. I went by his workplace but it wasn't on his desk and nobody could tell me where he was. So I thought, maybe you'd know where we could find him." She looked questioningly at Mrs. Smith, but though her gaze was focused on the woman in front of her, she did notice the faint smile of approval on Theodore's lips. She suppressed the sigh of relief that would entirely give the game away, but the tension in her shoulders dissipated a little.

Mrs. Smith seemed to believe the excuse and nodded. She took a sip of the tea that had long since grown cold before speaking again. "He always did like reading, my Zach," she sighed. "But I'm sure he didn't leave any books here when he came by last, love. Have you tried his flat?"

Hermione shook her head, looking down again to hide the gleam of excitement in her eyes. "He never told us where he lives," she said, which was true enough. "We weren't that close, you see. More work acquaintances than anything else." She stopped herself from saying anything more, aware she was about to start babbling. She bit her lip and held her breath, hoping Mrs. Smith would take the cue.

She did, after a long silence that made both her guests shift uncomfortably in their seats.

"I guess I could lend you the key. As long as you promise to bring it back, mind," she said, eventually. She rose from her seat and walked over to the sideboard, opened a drawer and took out a set of keys. Then she scribbled something down on the pad near the phone and tore the top sheet off.

"Here you go," she said, holding the key and paper out to Hermione, who only just managed to rise gracefully from her chair and walk over to the elderly woman. She tucked the key and note in her pocket. Then she surprised herself by giving the woman a hug.

"I know the Aurors are doing all they can, Mrs. Smith. They'll bring him back, I'm sure of it."

The woman didn't return the hug and only nodded stiffly. But Hermione saw the tears glistening in the corner of her eyes and knew she was only trying not to break down in front of strangers again.

"We should go," Theo said, taking Hermione's arm. "I'll bring the keys back tonight, Mrs. Smith."

* * *

Theodore and Hermione looked around Zach Smith's flat in quiet desperation. It was clear the Aurors had been there, the place was turned upside down. The air had the stale smell of rooms that hadn't been aired in ages and a thick layer of dust coated every surface. Hermione shivered, the sudden evidence of the disappearance of one of her former fellow students making the whole adventure just a little too real.

"We should get started," Theo said. His voice was quiet, as if he didn't want to disturb the sleeping flat. "Let's see if the Aurors left anything interesting behind."

"Harry said they hadn't found anything," Hermione reminded him.

Theo shrugged. "Maybe they didn't know what to look for."

"Do we?"

Theo rounded on Hermione, a sudden anger blazing in his eyes. "Of course not. But don't tell me you're going to give up on this now, Granger. We didn't scare that poor woman into hysterics for nothing."

Though he had said 'we', the look in his eyes made it clear he meant 'you'. The reproach hit Hermione almost like a physical blow, and her attempt to ignore the uncomfortable guilt churning in her stomach made her embarrassment rise. "Why are you so angry? We had to talk to her, or we'd never have gotten this address out of her," Hermione said, crossing her arms and frowning petulantly. "And I did give us a credible excuse to be asking questions, didn't I?"

Theo's shoulders tensed. "You should have known she'd react so emotionally to any mention of her son, though. You shouldn't have sprang it on her the way you did. If you'd have let me handle it-"

"Then what? How was I supposed to know she'd start yelling and crying?" Hermione cut in, also getting angry. It was easier to be angry. She didn't have to acknowledge her embarrassment if she was angry.

Theo sighed and turned away from her. "We were going to ask questions about a son who went missing," he said over his shoulder. "Of course she'd be hysterical. Any mother would." He went through a door into the next room and slammed it shut behind him.

Hermione remained in the sitting room, swallowing down the guilt that had been gnawing at her ever since Mrs. Smith had begun to cry, and instead focusing on Theodore's irrational anger. She went through the room methodically, sorting papers and skimming books for anything out of the ordinary. She looked under the furniture and behind the framed photographs, slamming them down with unnecessary violence to vent her frustrations. With a sigh she threw herself onto the only chair that wasn't upturned or in shambles, crossing her arms and glaring, as if the deserted flat was somehow responsible for her failure.

At that moment, Theodore came out of the room he had disappeared into, carrying three sheets of parchment. "I found some letters in the bedroom that might be helpful," he said, glancing at her and deciding to ignore her brewing temper. "Anything here?"

Hermione shook her head in stony silence, getting even more frustrated at Theodore's tacit refusal to talk about their earlier spat. He turned a chair upright, sat down and handed her the letters to peruse.

The first was very short.

_Zach,_

_Tomorrow around three is fine. I'll make sure I have some cauldron cakes, I know those are your favourites._

_See you then,_

_Susan_

"No date." Hermione held out the scrap of parchment towards Theodore. "And no last name. Is there a way to figure out who wrote it, you think?" Theo shrugged and took the first letter back. "Maybe Harry knows," she said, dismissing the first letter and focusing on the second.

_To Mr. Zacharias Smith_

_Dear Mr. Smith,_

_Please take note that if you do not stop harassing my client, Mr. Draco Malfoy, despite his repeated appeals that you no longer contact him, I shall be obliged to start legal proceedings._

_I am sure you are aware a restriction order will reflect badly on your professional reputation, therefore Mr. Malfoy has been reluctant to take legal action against you. However, I have every reason to believe I have enough grounds to win such a proceeding in court._

_This is your last warning, Mr. Smith. Do not contact my client again, in any way, shape or form._

_Respectfully,_

_Blaise Zabini, Esq._

Hermione's eyebrows rose fractionally. "That's interesting."

"Isn't it just?" Theodore sounded reluctant, despite his agreement. Hermione looked up and studied his face. It was a careful blank. She lay the letter on her lap and reached out to take his hand. "I know you and Malfoy were friends, Theodore, but even you must admit this warrants some questions?"

Theodore nodded and squeezed her hand, a silent show of gratitude for her empathy. "We _still_ are friends," was all he said.

Hermione looked at the third piece of paper. It merely contained words that seemed to have nothing to do with one another.

_Thunder in the Atrium_  
_Dragon attack  
_ _Valkyrie_

"This is… this just doesn't make sense, Theodore. What can it mean?" Hermione furrowed her brows, deep in thought. "Aren't the Valkyrie beings from Norse mythology? And what attack can he be talking about? A Quidditch manoeuvre?" Her eyes strayed to an old, damaged Puddlemere United poster on the wall. "He seems to have been fond of Quidditch. Is there an attack formation or something called the Dragon Attack?" She wished, just for a moment, she had paid more attention to Quidditch in school.

Theodore followed her gaze and chuckled. "More like he's no longer very fond of the reserve Keeper," he said. It was only then that Hermione recognised her old fellow Gryffindor, Oliver Wood. The poster had been ripped in two, the face torn unrecognisably apart, but as soon as Theodore had said those words, she knew why that hair and posture had seemed so familiar. She had seen it for years in the Gryffindor common room, after all.

"It seemed strange enough to keep," Theodore said, nodding at the last sheet of parchment. "I'm not sure it'll make any sense at all, ever, but we might as well take it."

"At least you found something." Hermione pursed her lips petulantly. "I went through everything here and I swear Zach Smith must be the most boring person ever to have walked the halls of Hogwarts. There's absolutely nothing to show any personality here. He only has a picture of his mother, for Circe's sake. Didn't he have any friends?"

Theodore took the other two sheets and tucked them away in his pocket. "Come on," he said, getting up. "Nothing else for us here. I want to take those keys back to Mrs. Smith. No need for you to come along." He stood stiffly near the door, waiting for her to pass through before him.

In the doorway, she turned around again and said, unexpectedly, "I'm sorry. You were right, I should have been more tactful with Smith's mother."

Theodore smiled at her, and it was only then she realised he hadn't done so ever since they'd arrived in Ipswich. She turned away quickly, trying to hide her blush.

"I'll ask Harry if there's any way we can figure out who Susan is. It may be Susan Bones, you know, that Hufflepuff in our year? Zach was a Hufflepuff, too, so it would make sense that they knew each other. Many of us are still friends with our former Housemates."

Theo chuckled and locked the door behind her. Then he stared at the closed door in silence, frowning. "Strange that a wizard like Smith didn't put up any wards."

Hermione shrugged. "The Aurors might have taken them down when they came here to investigate his disappearance a few weeks ago."

He hummed but didn't seem convinced. "Maybe you can check that with Potter, too? Just to be sure."

Hermione couldn't think of any reason why that might be important but decided not to question him. She was too relieved the fraught tension between them had finally been resolved. She chose to ignore that her apology had actually made her feel better about her own behaviour, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens... Hope you enjoyed!


	6. Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta love to Maloreiy!

 

* * *

 

 

**6. Conversations**

 

* * *

 

Harry's quick identification spell showed that the Susan from the letter was, indeed, Susan Bones, and Hermione decided to see if she could find an unobtrusive way to get in touch with her. After all, they had never been close, and after the disastrous experience with Smith's mother, she didn't want to risk upsetting someone else who cared about him.

She remembered that Susan worked at the Ministry as a clerk for the Wizengamot, slowly but steadily building her career in the field, as her aunt had done before her. The Department for Care of Magical Creatures occasionally had dealings with the Wizengamot, though they usually sent their paperwork through the internal post system. That day, Hermione decided to take the files down herself, in the hopes of seeing Susan and reinstating some form of friendship.

She was lucky, as Susan was at her desk, going through a long and tightly written scroll with great concentration. Hermione coughed to get her attention and Susan looked up, her frown of irritation melting away at the sight of Hermione Granger.

"Hermione? What brings you down here?"

Hermione shrugged and deposited the files onto a pile near Susan's desk. "Just thought I'd bring these myself. I've been sitting at my desk all morning and I felt like stretching my legs. It seems like it's been ages since we chatted, Susan! How are you?"

Susan smiled and put down her quill and parchment, settling in her chair in preparation for a nice long chat. She related her recent struggles at work, talked about her cat and recommended the latest books she'd been reading with obvious delight. It was evident that not many people came around this part of the Ministry just for a chat, as Susan seemed starved for human contact.

Footsteps echoed through the corridor, and, quick as a flash, Susan bent over her scroll again, quill poised to strike through any words that needed correction. A moment later, an elderly wizard in the burgundy robes of the Wizengamot came into the office.

"There you are, Miss Bones. Haven't you finished the new Bill on the Use and Alteration of Muggle Artefacts, yet?" His voice dripped with disdain and mockery.

Susan began to explain that there were a number of issues with the wording and she really did need a little more time to finish her revision, in the breathless tones of someone who knew a particularly painful blow was coming and was trying desperately to ward it off.

The elderly wizard huffed and hawed, then grumbled, "I'm sure that if it weren't for your aunt I'd never have given you this job, Miss Bones. Witches should stay home and raise families, not waste their time here." He sniffed disapprovingly and was about to leave, when his eyes fell on Hermione and all but bulged out of their sockets.

"Miss Granger," he blustered, turning quite red in the face. "I didn't see you there. What can I help you with? Did Miss Bones make a mistake in your latest Centaur Bill? Honestly, the girl-"

Hermione cut him off before he could say another disparaging word. "Actually," she said with a sweet smile, "I'm here to ask Miss Bones to lunch. She's a good friend of mine." She winked at Susan and turned up the wattage of her smile a little more. "I know I'm just a little bit early, but I'm sure you won't mind if we go now, before the lunch rush?"

"Of course, of course," the man blustered, unable to hide his mortification. "Go right ahead. Take your time, Miss Bones. No need to rush back. The Muggle Artefact Bill can wait a little longer. Do come again, Miss Granger. It is an honour to have you here." And with a stiff nod, he swept out of the office again.

Hermione and Susan stared at the closed door until his footsteps had faded away, then glanced at each other and promptly burst into laughter.

"What a pompous arse," Hermione said, shaking her head. "But since you've been let off for lunch, how about we go anyway? I know a little place on Diagon we could go to."

Susan all but sprang off her chair, grabbing her cloak and dragging Hermione away to the lifts. "Quickly then, before he comes back and changes his mind." She giggled, elated with the feeling of sneaking off, though she had, in theory, received permission. "Thank you, Hermione. That was very kind of you."

Fifteen minutes later they had arrived at the little cafe, Sage and Onions, found a table and placed their orders.

"Is your boss always that pleasant?" Hermione asked, feeling increasingly furious the more she thought about the encounter.

Susan snorted. "I can handle him. It is irritating, of course, but I just think of the crap my aunt had to go through to get where she ended up, steel my back and keep going. There's very little point in wasting energy on that fight. Some people will just keep annoying you, no matter what."

Hermione nodded. "A bit like Zach Smith," she said, with a too-studied air of nonchalance. "He always gets up my back. Always did, even at Hogwarts, and it hasn't gotten any easier since he's become an Auror and takes care of most of my cases. But he seems to have dropped off the face of the earth, lately. Boot has been a lot easier to work with." She watched Susan's reaction closely and noticed the woman stiffen slightly when she mentioned Smith's name. "You were friends with him, weren't you? Smith, I mean? I'm sorry, maybe I offended you, I didn't mean to."

Susan shook her head, her lips curling into a sad smile. "I know not everyone liked Zach," she said, quietly. "But he was my friend. I cared a lot for him." She stopped abruptly.

Hermione wondered why those words gave her such an uneasy feeling. "I am sorry for what I said, then. I should have been more thoughtful. Were you…" She hesitated, then plunged on. "Were you a couple?"

Susan sat back, surprise in her wide brown eyes. "A couple? Gods, no. Zach was gay."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in surprise. She was torn between asking more and seeming too interested, not sure how far she could proceed with light-hearted gossip, but the decision was taken from her. Just then, a waiter placed their salads on their table and disappeared again.

Hermione tucked in with relish. A cool salad was exactly what she liked on hot summer days. Susan, too, seemed to enjoy her choice.

"It's just," Hermione said casually, taking up the thread of their conversation again, "the way you talk about him, like he's a past lover or something." And as she said it, she realised what had made her so uneasy earlier. It was Susan's use of past tense. That was interesting, and worrying.

Susan grinned. "I wouldn't have been his type, anyway. He's always had a thing for blonds. Draco Malfoy was his latest obsession. Not that Malfoy seemed to appreciate his attentions, mind. But Zach never stopped talking about him. I have a feeling they had a one night stand or something, and Zach wanted more but Malfoy didn't." She shrugged. "That's life, I suppose. Sometimes you're lucky and the one you fall for loves you back. More often, they don't. People should move on when that happens, no matter how hard it is. But Zach had trouble letting go. He received more than one Howler from Malfoy threatening him if he didn't stop harassing him. But all it did was make him try harder." Her shoulders slumped, as if the topic made her feel dejected and sad. She shook her head and muttered something under her breath that Hermione couldn't quite catch.

Hermione nodded, but didn't reply. So Malfoy had threatened Smith? Was the former Death Eater up to his old tricks again? The bite of tender chicken turned to sawdust in her mouth as the thought speared through her, and the scars that reminded her of her one and only visit to Malfoy Manor started to itch. Hopefully Theodore would find out something from Malfoy.

* * *

Theo offered a tumbler of Firewhisky to Draco Malfoy and settled in one of the plush, high-backed chairs. He studied his old friend with undisguised interest. He seemed a lot happier than he had been a few months ago. He'd looked tired then, haggard even, but he hadn't wanted to talk about it, and Theo respected his friend enough not to press. But as haggard as he'd looked back then, now he was almost translucent with radiance, his pale hair glinting silver in the sunlight that fell through the high windows.

Draco sat down opposite him and let Theo study him. He didn't speak but waited for Theo to begin.

"It's been a while," Theo remarked, after making appreciative noises at the quality of the Firewhisky.

"So it has."

Theo's lips twitched, but he managed to suppress the smile that almost came to his lips at the noncommittal answer. "Things looking up, then?"

Draco nodded and sipped his drink. There was an infuriating, knowing smirk on his lips that betrayed the game he was trying to play.

Theo sighed and set his tumbler down on a nearby table. He leaned forward, his hands clasped and his elbows leaning on his knees. "I'm going to need you to be honest with me," he began, his face turning serious.

Draco rested his glass on the arm of his chair and nodded, the smirk vanishing off his face. They had been friends long enough to know when it was time to be serious, and this seemed to be one such moment.

"You may not like what I'm going to ask, but I really need to know."

Draco nodded, still waiting for Theo to get to the point.

"What happened between you and Zach Smith?"

The question had an immediate effect on Draco. He stiffened in his seat, leaning back with flared nostrils as if trying to inhale as much oxygen as he could, the fingers around his drink turning white with tension.

"I don't know what you mean." There was a tremor in his free hand that belied his flat, indifferent voice and the carefully blank expression on his face.

Theo shook his head. "Don't lie to me, Draco. You know I can see right through you."

Draco's shoulders tensed even more and his free hand clenched into a fist on his knee. "Why do you need to know?"

Theo hesitated. He knew Hermione wouldn't approve if he explained everything, but he knew that nothing but the truth would be reciprocated with equal frankness. So he explained how he and Hermione had ventured on this strange quest to find the Auror who had disappeared so mysteriously into thin air, leaving out the details he knew he couldn't disclose under the magical promise he'd given Potter. "Potter's at a loss," he said, with an eloquent sweep of his hand. "So Granger and I decided to try to find him ourselves. We came across a letter Zabini sent him on your behalf, threatening a restraining order against him. So what happened, Draco? I never knew you were at all close to him."

Draco shuddered visibly in his seat, the hand on his knee clenching and unclenching. Then he slumped in his seat, tossed the remainder of his Firewhisky back and sighed. "I'll tell you," he said, though his voice was so quiet that Theo had to strain to listen.

"This isn't one of my proudest moments, you know. I don't often make such a mistake in judgement. But about six months ago, I had a one-night stand with him. I never meant it to be more than that, but he… he seemed to have this strange idea that having sex once meant we should be in a relationship. I never led him on, or anything, I was very clear before we started that it was just sex. But he started sending me letters and flowers and gifts. It became embarrassing. He turned up everywhere I went, the Apothecary, Diagon Alley, Hogwarts…" Draco stopped, anger blossoming on his cheeks. "He wouldn't stop, Theo. He just wouldn't. I hexed him, and he just smiled and asked me out. I had to start disguising myself to go out, and yet still he seemed to track me. Every bar I went to, no matter if it was London or Edinburgh or Rome, he'd be there, staring at me like a kicked puppy, as if I was somehow betraying him by dancing with other men. I sent him a couple of Howlers, even complained to Potter, and eventually I got Blaise involved. Soon after he'd sent that letter, he stopped bothering me."

Theo sat back, surprised. This was not at all the story he'd expected.

"I didn't actually know he'd disappeared until about a week or so ago," Draco continued. "That explains, of course, why he stopped stalking me."

Theo met Draco's gaze with a question in his eyes. Draco didn't need to hear the words to understand what he wanted to know.

"I didn't dispose of him, Theo," Draco said emphatically. "Merlin only knows how I wished to. But I didn't."

Theo believed him without hesitation.

* * *

Hermione was not so easily convinced of Draco's innocence. When Theo explained Draco's story to her that evening over dinner, her eyes gleamed with excitement. "Don't you see," she said, her voice almost dancing with excitement, "don't you see we've uncovered a motive here? Malfoy would have wanted to get rid of him. He's not the type to be bullied and harassed like that and just take it."

Theo shook his head. "You're wrong. He wouldn't have killed Smith, not unless it was an honest duel, and he would have no reason to hide that."

Hermione tapped her fork on her plate in a mismatched rhythm while she thought about it. "I don't know, Theodore," she said eventually. "Don't forget he was once a Death Eater. I'm sure he learned a thing or two about getting rid of people without leaving a trace."

Theo turned white at her words. He stood up with wooden, stiff movements and pushed his chair under the table. His plate was still half full, but he carelessly tossed his napkin onto it. His hands gripped the back of the chair so hard his knuckles turned white. Hermione stared in surprise.

"My father was a Death Eater," he said, his voice so steady it betrayed how shaken he really was. "And I know more than one way to get rid of people, because he taught me all he knew. Draco was branded, yes, but he never killed anyone. He _couldn't_ kill anyone. You, more than anyone, should be able to understand the sacrifices people make in times of war to keep their families safe."

Hermione was taken aback at his fierce words but refused to back down. She, too, stood up, shoving her chair back with such force it toppled over with a crash. "You can't honestly compare me Obliviating my parents and sending them to Australia with Malfoy's happy acceptance of the Dark Mark? He just stood there when Bellatrix tortured me. He. Just. Stood. There." There were tears in her eyes now, and Theo had to look down and swallow to regain his composure. He took a deep breath.

"I'm not saying that what he did in the war, that the choices he made, were the right ones. I am saying he made them for the right reasons. And I am saying that he is not a killer. He said he didn't get rid of Smith, and I believe him."

Hermione sniffed and angrily wiped away the tears. "And I don't," she said with the same conviction.

Theodore nodded sharply and turned away. He walked to her fireplace and tossed some Floo powder in the grate. "I suppose that's that, then," he said, and with a final, sad look at her, he disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your lovely comments, I hope you like this chapter as much as the previous ones!


	7. The Malfoy File

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta Maloreiy

 

* * *

 

**7\. The Malfoy File**

 

* * *

 

Hermione was still fuming about Theodore's blind belief in his friend when she arrived at work the next morning, and she was more determined than ever to find the evidence to support her side of the case. She knew Nott would never turn his back on Malfoy unless she could prove without a doubt that he was guilty.

She made a token effort of going through her paperwork at her desk, pretending to read through contracts and case files before signing them off, while her mind was engaged with figuring out a plan of action. In the end, she decided to pay Harry a visit.

When she arrived at the Auror department, it was deserted. Only Terry Boot was at his desk, all the others were empty.

"Morning, Granger," he said jovially. "What brings you to our humble offices? Did I mislay another one of your files?" He glanced down guiltily at the mess that was his workspace.

Hermione smiled at him and shook her head. "I just came up to see Harry," she said, with a wave at the closed office door.

"He's out on a raid. I'm the only one left here to man the ship. Big bust, apparently, a smuggling ring. Can't say much more. Confidentiality, you know." He winked at her conspiratorially.

Hermione couldn't keep the disappointment from her face, and Boot rose from his desk, concern in his eyes. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Hermione hesitated only a second before nodding decisively. "Could you help me find out if Draco Malfoy has been associated with any criminal activity lately?"

Terry Boot came around his desk and leaned against it, arms crossed and eyes alight with interest. "Any particular reason you want to know?"

Hermione nodded but didn't elaborate.

He studied her in silence for so long that she almost began to squirm under his gaze. Just as she thought he was going to send her on her merry way, he straightened up and started walking towards the Auror Archives, beckoning her to follow him.

"I reckon Potter would have shown you his files if you'd gone straight to him, so I see no reason to deny you."

They stopped at a blank wall. Boot tapped his wand against a barely-visible button, and a door seemed to appear out of nowhere, sliding open quietly. Inside was a long, dark room with rows upon rows of filing cabinets, which were opening and closing by themselves. Parchment aeroplanes flew in through a tube, then unfolded and sorted themselves into the correct folders, which automatically flew out of the cabinets as soon as the aeroplane arrived in the room. Hermione caught her breath. There was something incredibly beautiful about this filing system. She'd never seen anything like it.

"Is it never wrong?" she heard herself ask before she was conscious she'd opened her mouth.

Boot chuckled. "The Unspeakables did a good job, Granger. So far as I know, there's never been a misfiling. But we do occasionally check, just to be sure." He tapped an index file and muttered "Draco Malfoy". It began to rattle until one card popped out. Boot read it, then nodded and tapped his wand against it. A moment later, a folder came zipping out of a filing cabinet into Boot's waiting hand.

It seemed a lot heavier than Hermione had expected. Boot seemed to have no qualms letting her read the whole file, as he simply handed it over to her.

"You can't take it out of the Archive," he said. "But you can copy any information you need for whatever it is you're working on." He gestured at a desk in the corner.

She sat down and placed the file in front of her. Her fingers itched to open it, but something made her wait until Boot had left the room.

He seemed to understand her hesitation and grinned at her. "I'll leave you to it, then," he said, and with a jaunty salute, he disappeared.

Hermione skimmed through the heavy file. The first half were notes on his activities during the war, and she pointedly refused to read even a word about it. The fight with Theodore the night before had already conjured up memories long buried and nightmares she'd almost forgotten. She didn't need more detailed images of torture and death in her mind. Then she came to what seemed to be more recent notes and slowed down. She read through it quickly, bit her lip and went over everything again, even more carefully. She took a deep breath. This was all she needed.

 

* * *

 

Hermione Apparated straight into Theodore's living room. The triumphant glee she'd felt when she realised she'd been right about Malfoy all along, was instantly overshadowed when she saw Theodore's face and realised she was about to destroy one of his oldest friendships.

He didn't seem happy to see her, which only hurt more.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was so sharp it could have lacerated Flobberworms.

Hermione swallowed. She had to draw on her Gryffindor courage now. It was never easy to tell someone they'd been taken in by one of their dearest friends.

"I went to the Auror Office today," she began, but at Theodore's impatient eye roll, any empathy she might have felt for him seemed to evaporate in anger and disappointment. She got straight to the point.

"I have proof Draco Malfoy has more than one reason to want to get rid of Zach Smith," she said, holding out some papers to him. She'd taken copies of the most relevant notes in his file. "Malfoy is involved with some kind of anarchist group that is planning to overthrow the Ministry."

Theodore opened his mouth to interrupt, but Hermione carried on regardless. "Zach Smith was onto him. That story he told you yesterday, it was all a lie. The reason he was following Malfoy was because he suspected him of being involved in a plot to kill the Minister and he'd found proof. Only, he disappeared the day he was supposed to bring that proof in. There are dates of meetings, lists of people he's been seen with, transcripts of conversations Smith overheard… It's all there, Theodore." She waved at the sheaf of papers. "I'm sorry," she added, her voice a little softer.

Theodore stared at the papers without really seeing them. He kept shaking his head in disbelief. "You must be wrong. He'd never do that. This can't be true," he said, more to himself than to Hermione.

Hermione tried to keep the smugness out of her voice while she detailed all the information that was in the notes.

Then a voice drawled, "I can assure you, Granger, that I am not involved in a plot to overthrow the Ministry. I don't know where you got that information, but it is totally and utterly false."

Hermione wheeled around at the sound of Draco Malfoy's voice. He was standing right behind her, and she drew her wand before she was even conscious of what she was doing. He stared at the tip of her wand and swallowed, but then focused his slate grey eyes on her.

"You'd better watch it, Malfoy," she said through gritted teeth. "One wrong move and I'll Stupefy your arse faster than you can say 'Quidditch'."

Malfoy's lips quirked up in a smirk. "You really shouldn't underestimate the people you point your wand at, Granger," he said, with a slight shake of the head. But he did take his hands out of the pockets of his robes and held them up in the universal sign of surrender. "I can assure you that half the occasions you mentioned I was in France, visiting my parents."

"And is that where you were during the weekend that Smith went missing?"

When Malfoy didn't answer immediately, she quirked an eyebrow. "Kneazle got your tongue, Malfoy? Come on, if you have an alibi, please share. Prove me wrong."

He shook his head. "I can't tell you that. It's personal."

Hermione moved aside, so she could keep her wand trained on Malfoy but still see Theodore without turning her back on him. "See," she said to Theodore, a sharp nod in Malfoy's direction. "He doesn't want to tell us because he has no alibi. Because he was, in fact, responsible for the disappearance of Zach Smith. You remember what Harry said. Now we have proof Malfoy's involved too."

Theodore looked helplessly between Hermione and Draco, finally fixing his gaze on Draco. "Are you involved in any of this?" He waved the papers around for emphasis.

Draco met his gaze steadily. "I am not."

"I still believe you," Theodore said after a short silence.

Hermione growled in frustration. "Your friendship for him blinds you, Theodore. I can't believe you'd take his word over the evidence I've just given you!" And before either of the men could react, she Stupefied them both in one smooth move.

"I'm sorry," she said to Theodore, whose eyes stared up at her angrily. "I can't risk him getting away."

 

* * *

 

Hermione arrived at Grimmauld Place still brimming with fury. She banged on the door until Harry, only half-dressed and towelling his hair dry, let her in. One look at her told him all he needed to know. He led her into the kitchen, poured her a glass of her favourite wine and sat her down at the table. She downed the wine in one go and he refilled her glass without being asked.

"Tell me."

She did. She started speaking and didn't stop. "I came to your office this morning. Theodore and I came across some interesting information that we thought might be a lead. Or at least, I thought it could be a lead in our case. He didn't agree." She paused, the harsh words they'd exchanged still fresh in her mind. Why did it hurt so much? She didn't even know him that well, after all.

"What was this lead?" Harry prompted.

Hermione pushed her distracting thoughts away and continued the story. "We found a letter from Draco Malfoy's lawyer, threatening Smith with a restraining order. Theodore went to see Malfoy, and he had a decent story, but I wasn't too sure. That's why I came by. But you were out."

Harry nodded. "Big smuggling case. You'll hear all about it tomorrow."

"Boot was at his desk, though, and he let me into the Archive to see Draco Malfoy's file."

Harry's eyebrows rose but he didn't say a word.

Hermione felt encouraged and continued her tale, explaining how she'd found Smith's notes on Malfoy's links to an anarchist group plotting to overthrow the Ministry. She handed the copied notes to Harry, who read them in grave silence.

"I went to see Theodore to show him the proof and tell him he shouldn't have such blind faith in his friends, but while I was there, Malfoy himself showed up. He denied everything, of course, and Theodore still believed him over the evidence." She gestured at the papers, the bitterness in her voice betraying how much Theodore's words had hurt her. "I Stupefied them both and came here. You should arrest him, Harry, before he can get away." She looked at him expectantly, but Harry didn't jump up or spring into action.

Instead, he read through her notes again, his eyebrows rising with every sheet.

He placed them in a neat stack, his eyes focused on the papers in front of him and his fingers restlessly lining up the papers with the edge of the table. His lips opened and closed doubtfully, but when he finally looked up, his green eyes were blazing with fury.

"Hermione." His voice was measured, his back straight and stiff.

Hermione sat up, pressing her lips together nervously. There was something in his behaviour that wasn't quite right.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Clearly, the matter is more serious than I thought."

Hermione sprang up from her chair, almost upsetting her wine. Her body was thrumming with energy; she couldn't just sit, she needed to _act._ She needed _Harry_ to act. "Then what are you waiting for? Let's get to Nott Mansion and arrest the bastard."

Harry shook his head. "You don't understand, Hermione. Draco wasn't responsible for this. I know. I know that half the things in these notes are false."

Hermione stared at him, open-mouthed. "But… But… How? Why?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Because Draco and I have been in a relationship for the past four months, Hermione."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit late with this one but it's been a hectic few days. I'm taking a pause in posting now until the beginning of January. Happy Holidays, my dear readers! May the New Year bring you health, happiness and love.


	8. Making plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta thanks as always to Maloreiy. Apologies, it took a bit longer than foreseen to get into the swing of things. But hopefully back to weekly updates! Enjoy!

 

* * *

**8\. Making plans**

* * *

 

 

Hermione sank back in her chair and stared at Harry incredulously. "What did you just say?"

Harry repeated, in the same measured voice, "Draco and I have been in a relationship for the past two months. Half of the dates in this list were days he and I spent together." He handed her one of the sheets. "We were in Paris that weekend." He put one aside and handed her another one. "We didn't actually leave the house that time." He blushed slightly. "And this… Well, this is when we met, actually." He sent her a sheepish grin, his gaze faraway as he became lost in thoughts. Then his face turned serious again. "So you see, if I can identify at least half of these observations as false, then it is quite possible the other half are just as much a fabrication."

Hermione shook her head, still unable to believe him. "When were you going to tell us?" She couldn't help the hurt that had crept into her voice, and Harry reached out to pat her hand.

"I was going to tell you one of these days, Hermione, I swear. I just… At first I wasn't sure how serious we were, and I didn't want to deal with any possible fights and lingering resentment if it wasn't going to last."

Hermione nodded. That was sensible enough. "But you were going to tell me," she said slowly, "so you are serious about him?"

"Very serious."

"Does Ron know?"

Harry shook his head. "I was going to take the two of you aside at the next Weasley Sunday lunch and explain."

"I see." Then something seemed to strike Hermione. Her hand flew to her face in horror. "And I Stupefied him and Theodore, for no reason at all! Oh Harry, how am I ever going to face them now?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh at her discomfort. "You couldn't know these files had false information, Hermione. And based on this alone, I would definitely agree that he should be a suspect in Zach Smith's disappearance. But I _know_ he wasn't involved." He paused, taking the papers back from her and organising them chronologically, almost without thinking. When he had finished, he looked up at her.

"I don't like it. No, I definitely don't like it. First, Smith disappears when I ask him to investigate something fishy going on in the Department, and now Draco is being implicated. I don't like it at all."

"I suppose we had better go back to Nott Mansion," Hermione sighed, her cheeks colouring with shame. "I'll have to apologise to that prat, won't I?"

Harry looked at her, one eyebrow raised mockingly. "Do you mean Draco or Theodore?"

Hermione almost cursed when she saw Harry sporting Malfoy's trademark smirk. It really was obvious, now, that he'd taken over more than one quirk from his boyfriend. How had she not seen it before?

* * *

Theo looked up from his Firewhisky when Hermione and Potter entered his living room. He exchanged a glance with Draco, then glared at the newcomers. Granger shifted a little uncomfortably under his glare.

"How did you get free?" Hermione sounded genuinely surprised, she must have known her _Stupefy_ had been strong enough to fell an elephant.

"Fliss found us," Theo said in a clipped voice. "Very kind of you to come back. Your concern for our welfare is touching." His anger simmered through every word, and he knew his words had hit the mark when her face changed from embarrassment to irritation.

"Oh, just shove it, Nott. We have bigger fish to fry." She glared at him, and Theo refused to back down. Only a few days before, she'd been ready to attack Potter for having captured him, but now she looked like she wanted to bite his head off.

Potter had moved towards Draco, settling himself comfortably on the armrest of his chair and taking a sip of his glass. Theo watched the exchange and understood the implications immediately. He held up his Firewhisky, as if to make a toast, and grinned when Draco's cheeks tinged pink.

"I was going to tell you," Draco said.

Theo shrugged his comment away and focused on Potter instead. "I take it you didn't come here to arrest my friend, since you didn't bring the cavalry, and Granger there isn't throwing around Stupefies indiscriminately." He waved a dismissive hand in Hermione's direction but refused to look at her. He was still angry that she had drawn her wand on one of his best friends in his own house, and not a little bit ashamed that she'd got the drop on him, too. Not only was his pride bruised, but his frustration over her refusal to believe in him stung. It stung a lot.

Hermione drew in her breath, as if to retaliate, but a look from Potter made her press her lips together. She crossed her arms and threw an exasperated look at him, which Theo easily pretended not to see.

"I've come here to clear a few things up," Potter began, putting one arm around Draco's shoulder in a gesture of both support and appeasement. "Hermione brought some interesting facts to my attention."

"I should have known she'd take her wild tales to you," Theo said with a sneer.

Hermione bristled again, but other than a sniff she made no attempt to interrupt.

"You don't believe her, do you?" Draco's voice had a slight tremor to it that he quickly tried to suppress, but it didn't go unnoticed by either Harry or Theo. It made them both realise that despite his composure, he was worried that Harry would believe one of his best and oldest friends over his lover. Theo merely raised an eyebrow, curious to see Potter's reaction.

Potter shook his head. "Of course I don't believe it, Draco. I know you're not involved with some kind of terrorist group." He proceeded to explain how Hermione had shown him Smith's notes and how he knew they were lies.

Theo and Draco stared at each other when he had finished as if in a long, silent conversation. Then Theo cocked his head to the side and let out a barking laugh. "You really must have pissed someone off, Draco."

His observation seemed to startle both Hermione and Potter, but Draco only looked away from his friend, suddenly fascinated by the view from the high windows, though he had seen it at least a thousand times before.

"What do you mean?" Potter asked.

Theo waved at Draco. "It's obvious, isn't it? Someone is trying to frame him."

Hermione's mouth fell open in surprise. "You're joking!"

"Not at all. Nothing else makes sense. I'll admit Draco had enough reasons to want Smith gone from his life, but being involved with a group of idiots planning to overthrow the Ministry? I know he'd never do that. Not after…" Theo's voice trailed off. He noticed that Draco's cheeks turned bright red and it made him turn his head towards Hermione for the first time since she'd returned in an effort to capture her attention and give Draco some privacy to deal with the memories he'd just stirred up."So clearly someone is trying to make him look guilty. Potter said there was a leak in the Auror Department, so it would have been easy enough for them to create false files, even with Smith's signature on them. Smith must have gotten too close to the truth, and they got him out of the way."

"But why Malfoy?" she asked, still not quite convinced.

Theo pursed his lips and cocked his head, thinking. "Maybe some lingering resentment from the war. Someone with a personal grudge. The war left many wounds that have not yet healed, Granger."

Hermione swallowed, her hand going to her neck and rubbing the thin scar that always itched. "I know," she said, softly. She held his gaze with some defiance, as if expecting some retort, but he could only nod in understanding. She coughed uncomfortably, then transferred her attention to Draco and Potter.

Potter leaned his head on Draco's and seemed to be murmuring some soothing words Theo couldn't quite discern.

"I don't suppose you have any idea who might want to frame you, Malfoy?"

The two men sat bolt upright, suddenly reminded they were not alone. Malfoy shook his head. "Sorry to disappoint you, Granger, but I can't think of anyone who might have a particular grudge against me or my family from what happened in the war. I mean, in a way, there are so many people who suffered at the hands of my father. But he's serving time in Azkaban for his crimes. And nobody comes to mind who might have suffered especially at his hands. No one except…" He broke off, colouring again. "Except you," he finished, running his hand through his hair awkwardly. "Not that I think you have anything to do with it," he added in a rush, before she could respond. "You're more the type to sock me on the chin in public." He smirked at her.

Theo broke in before Hermione could respond. "Well, we can be pretty sure they're trying to set him up, and there's no point in going over the past. So what do we do now? We don't know who's behind this, and we're no closer to finding Smith. We know there's a leak among the Aurors, but we don't know who it could be. Potter's been looking into that for a while now and he didn't get any closer to finding out. I just don't know if there is anything we can do."

Potter sighed and repeated the words he'd said to Hermione earlier. "I don't like this at all."

Draco and Theo nodded in agreement.

All four of them were lost in thought for a long time. Then Hermione broke the silence. "How about we let them think they've succeeded, then?"

* * *

It took a lot of time and some shrewd arguments on Hermione's part, but eventually they all four of them agreed on a plan. Draco and Harry left soon after, leaving Hermione and Theo alone. Hermione made to follow them, reaching out for the Floo powder on the mantelpiece, but a hand closed around her wrist and stayed her action.

"Don't go yet," Theo said from close behind her, though it was more a request than an order.

Hermione swallowed and bit her lip, hesitating. Then she lowered her hand to her side. Theo didn't let go and she didn't shake him off. They stood there, silently willing the other to speak first.

It was Hermione who cracked. "I'm sorry," she blurted out, and as soon as those words came out of her mouth, others followed in a rush. "I shouldn't have acted so rashly, I should have listened. I'm sorry I doubted you." She paused and took a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm sorry, Theo."

Theo gently turned her around to face him. "I'm not blind to Draco's faults, Hermione," he said, absently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. It sprang loose again immediately, which made him smile. "I know full well he's a git and an idiot sometimes, but he really isn't a murderer. And he'd never get embroiled in such a group, not again."

Hermione opened her mouth to interject, but Theo continued before she could say anything. "I should have shown more understanding for your point of view, though. You don't know Draco as well as I do, and the past the two of you share will of course induce you to believe the worst of him. Your reaction wasn't that strange."

Hermione let out a sigh of relief. "You just seemed so angry, I wasn't sure you'd forgive me."

"I think that may have been more hurt pride than anything else, to be honest. Nobody has managed to draw their wand on me in a very long time."

Hermione tried not to look too smug, but if the amusement in his eyes was any indication, she must have failed miserably. She lifted her chin, however, and said, with equal frankness, "I may have overreacted because I was still angry at myself for my behaviour at Mrs Smith's. It seems it all started to go wrong there. I am sometimes too stubborn to admit I was wrong. But I was wrong then. And I was wrong about Draco, too."

Theo studied her, still looking amused. "So, how painful was it to admit that?"

Though his light-hearted question made her smile, she still retaliated by smacking his arm, hard. "Very painful," she said, only just refraining from sticking out her tongue.

He made a show of rubbing his arm where she'd hit him. "You sure know how to pack a punch."

Hermione merely grinned. She looked into his piercing blue eyes, and all of a sudden, it seemed impossible to look away. She'd forgotten to breathe, forgotten where she was. He licked his lips and her eyes flicked down and up again. She wasn't sure if she wanted to lean in closer or run away.

Theo's hand came up, all by itself, and tucked that same stray lock of hair behind her ear. His fingers trembled a little as he let them slide down over her blushing cheek. His voice was husky when he spoke. "Hermione…"

She swallowed with difficulty, her lips opening a little. She didn't realise she had started to lean into him until they were interrupted by the pop of Apparition. They both took a step back at the same time, Theo jerking his hand away from her cheek as if burnt. He turned around to face the intruder, his face a strange mixture of relief and anger at the interruption. It was Fliss, his house-elf.

"Fliss is sorry, Master, but Fliss is wanting to know if Miss Hermione is staying for dinner, please?" If house-elves could blush, she definitely would have. As it was, her greyish skin just turned a little darker and her discomfort was evident from the way she avoided meeting his gaze.

Theodore sighed and turned to Hermione again, the question clear in his eyes.

"I'd love to," she said, her lips slowly curving into a bright smile when she saw the relief and approval in his eyes. That clearly had been the answer he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your reviews and kudos. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	9. Talking, talking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta thanks to Maloreiy! Any remaining mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

 

 

* * *

 

**Talking, talking**

 

* * *

 

Hermione arrived at the Gilded Cauldron just a few minutes too late, but Ginny was already waiting at their table. She sprang up and enveloped Hermione in a warm hug. "I'm so glad you could make it," she said, when she finally let go. "I know it was a last minute invitation."

Hermione shrugged and settled herself in her seat. "You know I love having dinner with you, Gin. How are things? Have you settled in again?"

Ginny began to detail everything that had happened in the past two weeks, how her mother had tried to convince her to remain at the Burrow permanently, how her father had helped her find a flat and made a toaster explode, the detailed negotiations she was in with the Harpies to change her contract…

Hermione let it wash over her and revelled, if only for a moment, in the normality of the situation. She smiled wryly when she remembered how she'd been hankering for adventure only a few weeks ago, and now she was already relishing the normal things in life, such as having dinner with a friend.

But soon after they'd ordered, the difficulties she'd had to deal with for the past few days were brought back to the forefront of her mind.

"Did you see the Prophet this morning?" Ginny asked with barely concealed glee. "It seems Malfoy is finally paying his dues. Never thought he'd have the balls to organise some kind of underground resistance. Apparently, he's also responsible for the disappearance of that Smith guy! Not that I ever liked him, bloody annoying git is what I remember from Hogwarts, but still, nobody seems to have seen or heard from him in months. That just sounds bad. Do you think Malfoy killed him?"

A week had passed since Hermione found out about the falsified documents framing Draco for the disappearance of Zach Smith, and the news had only just been leaked to the press. Hermione was careful not to betray her part in the whole story and agreed readily. "Killed him? I thought the Aurors would have found his body by now if he was dead. As to Malfoy…" she said, with a conspiratorial grin, "you can only play with fire so many times before you get burnt. If Malfoy was stupid enough to get into some kind of conspiracy, it's no wonder he got caught."

Ginny waited until their orders were placed in front of them before taking up the thread of their conversation again. "But he wasn't caught, though, was he? It seems he got a whiff of what was about to happen and cleared out. Nobody seems to know where he is."

Hermione shrugged, chewing even more slowly now to give herself some time to think about what answer she could give that wouldn't give her away. Ginny wouldn't have any idea she was involved, but she did have a knack for figuring out when someone was lying to her. "Strange as it may seem," she said, after swallowing her bite of steak and mushy peas down with a bit of red wine, "he must still have some friends somewhere. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before Harry finds him, though."

Ginny let out a strange, slightly hysterical laugh that made Hermione look up in surprise. But as sudden as the laugh had come up, it died again and Ginny's face turned serious. "No doubt you're right. Harry's always had an obsession with Malfoy. It must be such a relief to him that he now has a legitimate reason to nose around in the man's life."

Hermione was taken aback by the slightly malicious undertone, but she couldn't put her finger on why it made her so uncomfortable. She decided that, despite all the time that had passed, Ginny was still a little resentful about her break-up with Harry, after all. She desperately tried to think of a topic that would take Ginny's attention away from her ex. But it was Ginny who pushed the conversation in another direction, and not necessarily one Hermione was more comfortable with.

"So have you seen Nott again?"

Hermione couldn't help the blush that spread over her face and neck. All at once she was hot and cold. She took a sip of wine to avoid responding right away but Ginny was already grinning.

"I can see you have," she said, her eyebrows waggling suggestively. "Is he as fit now as he was in Hogwarts? I never paid him much attention but he was quite the sight to behold when he came back for his final year."

Hermione didn't know why that remark made her wine taste sour all of a sudden. The smile she plastered on her face to hide her discomfort was just a little off.

"We have seen each other once or twice," she admitted, trying not to think of that fateful night she had healed his injuries or their visit to Ipswich. And she definitely wasn't thinking about that almost-kiss from last week. Surely that hadn't been disappointment in his eyes? She must have imagined it.

"And I'm guessing you're going to see him again?"

Hermione couldn't help but nod. She was embarrassed and didn't quite know how to act. She hoped Ginny wouldn't press for any details of their meetings, because she couldn't tell the truth about any of them. The game she'd become embroiled in was too dangerous to bring another person into it, and Harry surely wouldn't approve if Ginny got involved.

Ginny seemed to find Hermione's embarrassment entertaining, but after a few probing and suggestive remarks, she moved on to a different topic again, much to Hermione's relief. They finished their dinner without venturing near any dangerous topics again.

* * *

"Your plan seems to have worked so far," Theodore said by way of greeting when she arrived at Nott Mansion the next day. "Prophet's lapping it all up and all but claiming Draco wanted to resurrect Voldemort." He gave an involuntary shudder as he pronounced the name, but he hadn't hesitated. "People are popping up left and right now swearing they've seen Draco performing some Dark ritual or other." He scowled, but Hermione knew it wasn't directed at her. He was upset that his friend's reputation was being dragged through the mud and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Not yet, at least.

Hermione squeezed his arm in an effort to comfort him. "You knew it was going to get bad, Theo. There was never any doubt about that."

"I know," he sighed. "Let's go to the library. I spent enough time in this room today fielding Firecalls from Pansy and Blaise. Honestly, being interrogated by those two was worse than Potter." He began to walk and placed a hand at the small of her back to guide her along.

Hermione swallowed. The heat of his hand on her back seemed to seep through her clothes, through her skin, through her bones. It warmed her to the core. She licked her dry lips. "You didn't let anything slip, did you?"

Theodore glanced at her, his lips curled with disdain. "What do you take me for, some silly Gryffindor who can't keep a secret to save their life?"

Hermione poked him with her elbow. "I'm a Gryffindor, and I'll have you know I'm an excellent secret keeper. Ginny doesn't have the slightest suspicion I know anything about the whole Malfoy case, or what we're doing, and I can assure you she grilled me thoroughly last night."

Theodore raised an eyebrow. "Really? Why's that?"

Hermione began to blush fiercely. She pressed her lips together and shook her head stubbornly.

Theodore began to walk a little closer to her, their sides brushing. He bent down and whispered in her ear, "Oh, come now, Hermione, do tell?"

She swiftly stepped out of his reach and tried to regain her composure. She ignored the disappointment at the loss of his hand on her back. She could still feel the ghost of his touch. "If you must know," she said, with a toss of her head, "she wanted to know if we'd seen each other again."

They had arrived at the library, but Theodore didn't open the doors just yet. He stood before her, his blue eyes intent on her face, and she shivered under the attention. "And why would she want to know that?" he asked, his voice a silky whisper. He raised a hand and twirled a stray lock of hair around his finger.

Hermione quite forgot to breathe. He was so close, so overwhelmingly close, and she couldn't think of what to say. "I… She… I mean…" She swallowed and blinked, in an attempt to break his spell. But then his finger traced the curve of her cheek and goosebumps erupted all over her body. She licked her lips unconsciously. His eyes flicked down and up again, his lips curving into a smile that promised sin. He leaned in a little closer, and she began to meet him, but then the sound of voices echoing around the corridor ruined the moment. There was a flash of disappointment in his eyes, but he straightened up, turned around and opened the doors to the library without another word.

Hermione took a deep breath, but as the air around her was still suffused with everything Theo, it was not the best way to try to calm her senses. She followed him into the library and gasped at the sight before her. Rows upon rows of hardwood bookshelves brimming with books, comfortable high-backed chairs and sofas surrounding a bright fire in one corner and a gleaming mahogany desk in another. The smell of books and parchment and ink assaulted her and, for a moment, she forgot she had been about to kiss Theodore Nott in the middle of the corridor.

Theo was making his way towards the sofas, but halfway there he realised Hermione wasn't following. He turned around to ask what was wrong, only to have the words die on his tongue. She was looking around with a beaming smile, her hands clasped in front of her mouth and her eyes bright with excitement. He'd never seen her so blissfully happy. His heart skipped a beat when she turned that beaming smile on him.

"This is _wonderful_ ," she said breathlessly. "Oh, Theo, what a collection! I…" She flushed, shook her head briefly and tried to smooth the grin off her face. "I apologise. I'm not here to raid your library." _Not today, anyway._

When he laughed, she worried, for a moment, that she had said those last words out loud.

"You can come back any time, Hermione." He walked back up to her and put his hand on the small of her back again to guide her towards the sofas. "We came here to talk, though, not to read."

On a low table between the sofa and the fire, a steaming teapot, two cups and a plate of biscuits were waiting for them. Theodore smiled when he saw it. "Dear Fliss," he murmured, "she always knows."

"Why did you want to talk here?" Hermione asked, still looking over her shoulder and trying to take in as much as possible of the vast room.

"Because it's the only other informal room in this draughty mansion that is at all comfortable. I have another sitting room but my father used it to receive his Death Eater friends. It isn't really fit for anyone to see." He sat her down on the sofa, took the seat beside her and offered to pour her some tea. When she didn't respond, her attention still riveted on the books behind her, he gently pressed two fingers into her cheek until her head turned to face him. Her cheek was burning under his touch and her eyes, gleaming amber in the firelight, looked equally excited and embarrassed. They were so close he could see the sprinkle of freckles on her nose and he was tempted to count each one.

"Tea?" he asked, his voice hoarser than he'd have liked. Her presence was doing things to him he had long thought he'd outgrown. But the crush he'd had on her at Hogwarts was, apparently, far from extinguished. And now she was close, so close.

"Please," she breathed.

For a moment, he thought she was begging him to kiss her, but then he remembered he had asked her a question. He swallowed, dropped his hand from her cheek and began to busy himself with tea, trying to hide the blush he knew was blooming on his cheeks.

"Milk and sugar?"

"Just a dash of milk, please."

By the time he handed her the cup, he had regained control and felt quite calm again.

"So, the Smith case," Theo said, in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

"We haven't gotten very far," Hermione said thoughtfully. "His mother didn't know anything, Malfoy was a dead end and Susan…" She trailed off, the cup of tea pausing against her lips. She took a sip and replaced the cup on the table but the thoughtful look remained.

"What about Susan? You never told me how your chat with her went."

"That's the thing," Hermione said, tapping a finger against her lip. "There was something strange about our conversation but I can't really remember…"

Theodore decided to pointedly concentrate on the tea in his hand rather than the lips she was so innocently drawing attention to. He was about to murmur some encouraging nonsense when Hermione sprang up, nearly making him upset his cup.

"I've got it! It was the way she talked about him. As if she knows he's never coming back. As if…"

"As if she thought he was dead?" Theodore asked, his eyes narrowing at Hermione.

Hermione shook her head. "Not precisely. I mean, I know he's been gone for a long time, but if he were dead, I think she'd have been more upset. More like she's lost their friendship and she knows it can never be recovered."

"You should talk to her again."

Hermione nodded. "That's what I thought. I'll take her out to lunch tomorrow."

Theodore grinned. "And I'll see about cozying up to Terry Boot. We were friendly at Hogwarts, maybe I can run into him in Diagon Alley and have a chat. He might know something."

"He seemed very helpful when I went to see Harry the other day and nobody was in." Hermione laughed. "Though the information he did let me copy wasn't at all helpful."

Theodore hummed in agreement. "I wonder if he knows."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he was Smith's partner. Wouldn't he know about any reports Smith submitted?"

Hermione thought about that, then shrugged. "We'd have to ask Harry, but I don't think Auror partners always know what reports the other submits. They sometimes shuffle the teams up and some tasks an Auror can deal with alone. They wouldn't know about any missions they weren't involved in themselves."

"I'll see what I can get out of him, you never know."

Hermione nodded. "Be careful though, if anyone overhears you asking about Smith… Don't forget Harry is certain there's a leak in his department."

Theodore smirked. "How sweet of you to worry about me," he said with a wink. Hermione blushed furiously and turned to her tea again, unable to meet his gaze.


	10. Attacked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN - life is throwing me some curve balls so updates may be a bit more sporadic in the coming month or so.
> 
> Beta thanks to Maloreiy and DelicateScholar.

 

 

 

* * *

 

**10\. Attacked**

* * *

 

Theodore Nott leaned against the wall just outside Harry Potter's office, scanning the Auror department. Though he maintained an air of boredom, his sharp gaze registered everything.

He recognised some of the older Aurors as the ones who had arrested his father. His upper lip curled, but then relaxed. He knew his father deserved the sentence he had received, but that didn't mean he had to like the people who had taken him away.

Some of the younger Aurors were people he vaguely remembered from Hogwarts, though he couldn't think of any names. No Slytherins of course.

A few threw him curious looks, but nobody came over to ask why he was there.

The one person he had hoped to meet wasn't expected back for a few hours. Annoying, but not that much of a loss.

He was busy trying to think of an excuse to go through one of the empty desks when a rough voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Can I help you?"

Theo gracefully detached himself from the wall and turned.

"Auror Weasley," he said, with a polite nod. "I'm waiting for Head Auror Potter."

Weasley nodded, his eyes flicking over Theo's exquisitely cut robes, gleaming dragon hide boots, and polite but reserved smile. A hint of frustration glinted in his eyes, as if he recognised Theo but couldn't quite place him. "Maybe I can help? The Head Auror is in a meeting with the Minister and won't be back for a while."

"Ah," Theo said, then paused. "I wanted to talk to him about the Malfoy case. I read some disturbing information in the Prophet and I want to know what is true and what is not. Draco is a friend of mine."

Weasley's eyes narrowed. "Nott," he said, finally. "I thought I recognised you."

"Took you long enough. Then again, you are at an unfair disadvantage. We can't all have such a… distinguishing family trait." Theo glanced at Weasley's bright red hair.

Weasley turned an interesting shade of puce that clashed with said trait, but he didn't go off like Theo expected. Instead, he took a deep breath and said, "I know about that case. Let's sit down and I'll see if I can answer some of your questions."

Weasley began toward the far end of the corridor where, as Theo knew all too well, the interrogation rooms were hidden.

Instead of following, Theo sat down at the nearest empty desk. "Well," he said, in such a perfect imitation of Malfoy's drawl it surprised even himself, "explain then, Auror Weasley, why my friend is being persecuted by the press?"

Weasley stopped, annoyed, but pulled a chair from another desk and sat down as well. He waved his wand and muttered a _Muffliato_ before answering. "I suppose this means you haven't seen him lately?" he asked, nonchalantly.

Theo nearly smiled, but decided to play along. "He dropped by a few days ago, but I haven't been able to reach him since I read that strange article in the Prophet accusing him of the most ridiculous things. I came here to find out what was true and what was not." He buffed his nails on his robes, then inspected them with idle interest. "I hope you don't actually believe any of that nonsense," he added.

Weasley didn't give anything away. How unexpected. "He didn't mention anything about leaving then? When was this again?" He, too, had mastered the innocent look.

Theo waved his hand. "About a week or so ago," he said vaguely, "and he was his usual annoying self. Gloating over some financial deal he'd managed to pull and complaining about his mother's incessant attempts to marry him off to some nice and proper girl."

Weasley did smile at that remark. "His mother doesn't seem too worried about his disappearance."

"Disappearance? He's only been gone a few days. He probably got lucky at some bar and hasn't found his way back home yet. Isn't it a little… dramatic to talk about a disappearance?" Theodore raised his eyebrows.

Weasley merely shrugged. "He's nowhere to be found and we do want to ask him some questions. I'd have thought Malfoy would be here as soon as the Prophet published, demanding retribution. But he seems to have left his home and nobody has seen him recently."

Theo nodded. "I see." He tapped his fingers on the desk in an arrhythmic sequence.

"Was there anything else?" Weasley asked, as if he hadn't been trying to wheedle information as well.

Theo shook his head but made no move to get up. "I may wait here a little longer for Potter to come back. I hope your colleague won't mind my sitting down? There doesn't seem to be another chair available." He sent Weasley a toothy smile, and the man sighed.

"Fine, it's your time to waste." He stood up. "And yes, you can sit there. Smith isn't likely to come back any time soon."

Theodore smiled to himself as Weasley disappeared into the corridor.

The other Aurors in the open office were busily scribbling reports and responding to Floo calls. Nobody paid attention to him.

Theodore looked around cautiously, then cast a wandless Disillusionment Charm and carefully began to rifle through the papers on Smith's desk.

* * *

Hermione smiled as she sat down across from Susan Bones. "How's the old curmudgeon treating you today?" she asked cheerfully.

Susan looked up from the menu and sighed deeply. "One day I will throw all his nonsense at his head," she muttered. "And I won't hesitate to use a Permanent Sticking Charm."

Hermione let out a laugh. "That bad?"

"He's making me write out the entire Goblin Statute, which is three sixty-feet rolls of parchment. By hand!" She flexed her fingers and couldn't suppress a wince.

"Good thing I dragged you out of there for a spot of lunch, then."

"I suppose." Susan's eyes skirted around the little cafe where they had met before. She shifted on her chair and toyed with a fork.

"Are you looking for someone?"

Susan sat up stiffly. "No, of course not," she said, just a tad too brightly. "It's just us today, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded and pretended to concentrate on her menu, but surreptitiously glanced at Susan now and again.

She seemed to relax, however, once their orders were taken and the drinks and salads arrived.

"Have you been following the latest scandal in the Prophet?" Hermione asked with studied nonchalance.

Susan seemed to perk up at that remark. "You mean the Malfoy business? Gosh, that really is quite the scandal, isn't it? Who would have thought Draco Malfoy to be involved in that sort of thing? I mean, I know he was a Death Eater but I saw him after the Battle of Hogwarts and," she hesitated, "to be honest, Hermione, he looked as relieved as any of us that You-Know-Who was finally gone."

Hermione bent closer to Susan. "I've heard," she said in a conspiratorial tone, "that they suspect he's involved in Zach Smith's disappearance."

Susan paled. "R—really? How… extraordinary," she stammered, hand trembling as she took a bite of salad.

Hermione pretended not to notice and nodded excitedly. "Oh yes. Can you imagine?" She sat back again and laughed. "To think you told me only last week Smith was so obsessed with Malfoy. Now it looks like Malfoy did away with him. Or maybe they've both gone off to live on some tropical island together." She smiled brightly, catching the look of misery that crossed Susan's face before she attempted to smile back.

"Although, what Malfoy would do at a tropical island, I don't know," she went on. "With that pale skin of his, he'd burn to a crisp in no time."

Susan did finally force a laugh.

"It is strange, though, both of them missing," Hermione said, purposefully looking away. "When was it again you said you'd last seen him?"

"Malfoy? Not since his trial, I don't think."

"No, I meant Smith. You were friends, weren't you? You did say you'd seen him some time ago."

"Oh. Right. I think it was the weekend the Cannons lost against Puddlemere. We listened to the match on the wireless together."

Hermione stiffened. "Isn't that the exact weekend he disappeared?"

Susan began to cough violently, covering her mouth with a hand. She suppressed it quickly, and gave a shaky laugh. "Oh, no, I remember now. That wasn't Zach. It was Justin I saw that weekend. I must have mixed up the dates. I'm not really sure when he came by." She took a drink, but sloshed some on her robes. Her hand was trembling again.

Susan pushed her chair back abruptly and stood up.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I'm not feeling very well. I need to go now. I'll see you some other time, sorry again"

Before Hermione could even say goodbye, Susan all but flung a few Galleons on the table and rushed out.

"Interesting," Hermione muttered to herself.

* * *

Hermione walked briskly along Charing Cross Road, passing Foyles bookstore. She hesitated, briefly tempted to go in and browse. However, her lunch with Susan had left her unsettled, she needed to clear her head. Fresh air always helped.

She turned into one of the side streets and continued along the bustling streets of Soho, turning over Susan's strange behaviour in her mind.

Susan had lied to her, that much Hermione was certain of, and _had_ seen him the weekend he had disappeared. The question was, what else could Susan be hiding?

She couldn't wait to tell Theo what she'd discovered.

A sound from a dark alley caught her attention, and she stopped to listen.

Scratching and pained mewls, distinctively feline.

She looked around, but nobody else seemed to notice.

Hermione hesitated only briefly before stepping into the alley. "Kitty kitty, where are you? Come on, let me see you. I can help you, you know."

She walked further into the alley, but didn't see anything.

Then, on instinct, she crouched down seconds before a bright red curse shot over her head. She rolled toward the wall and stayed low, wand at the ready.

The alley remained seemingly empty..

A shimmer caught her eye and she fired a Stunner that way. The spell ricocheted and she had to dodge a bright purple curse aimed at her chest. It sliced into her left arm, stinking of burnt flesh and fabric.

She tried to Disapparate but she bounced back with such force her knees almost buckled beneath her.

"So," she muttered, "you think a Disapparition Shield can stop me, do you?" She fired a couple of curses in rapid succession, smiling with vicious satisfaction at the sound of bones breaking.

Blood began to soak through her sleeve as she stood still, listening keenly. A scuff from behind had her dodging another curse, successfully that time, wand pointed where it came from. Again there was nobody in sight.

Her hesitance cost her. Curses flew from two directions, forcing her to throw up a protection shield.

She huddled against the wall and aimed a Healing spell at her arm, but her hand shook and concentration shattered as spells battered against her shield, stronger and more frequent than before.

How far did their Disapparition Shield stretch? Surely not beyond the alley, or they wouldn't have had to lure her in. Or perhaps they'd thrown it up after she entered.

She cursed her weakness for felines.

Steeling herself, she disintegrated the shield and conjured a thick fog throughout the alley. That should distract her attackers. She began to move, quietly, carefully, along the wall towards the main street she had so foolishly abandoned.

She continued, one step at a time, her footsteps and breathing muffled by spells, heart thudding in her chest, so loudly and fiercely, she feared it would betray her. Her footsteps slowed at the harsh breathing ahead of her, blocking her escape.

His muffled curses made her smirk. Vanishing the fog made it stick to the caster, until they were covered in a grey cotton-candy fluff that took ages to melt. Thank the sneaky minds at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes for that.

Hermione sent a well-aimed Stunner in his direction and continued, until the fog was gone and she could feel the sun on her face.

Hermione ran, randomly ducking down one street and out others, heedless of oncoming traffic much to the frustration of cyclists, cars and buses alike. She ran until she reached the first quiet street and turned on her heel, Disapparating to a safe place.

She fell to her knees onto plush carpet in Theo Nott's sitting room and a squeaky voice said, "Miss Hermione? You being hurt? Miss?"

Unable to catch her breath, she couldn't say anything to the little house-elf who began to tend to her arm, Scourgifying the blood from her clothes and cleaning the wound.

Adrenaline had kept the pain at bay, but Fliss' ministrations reminded her just how close she had come to dying just now.

"Theodore," she gasped.

"Master Theodore being in the library, Miss," Fliss said promptly.

Hermione pushed herself up, despite the house-elf's protests, and stumbled towards the library.

The thought that she had nearly died pushed her forward, one painful step after another, until she reached the library doors. She threw them open and walked in, concentrating hard not to stumble again.

Theodore sat at his desk, his head leaning on one hand and a quill poised in the other.

He looked up at the sudden intrusion, the frown on his face melting into delight at seeing her, then concern.

Hermione stared at him as if she had never seen him before.

She stood rooted to the spot, struck by one thought only.

_I could have died. I could have died and I'd never have told him that I…_

Cutting that thought short, she reached out towards him and he came to her, grasping her hands tightly and repeating the same words over and over again.

"What happened? Talk to me, Hermione, please."

But she couldn't form any words. She could only stare, stare at his beautiful blue eyes, dark as sapphires, his aquiline nose, and high cheekbones. At his dark hair that curled, just a little, at the ends.

She saw the desperate concern in his eyes and felt thrilled in ways that, she told herself, she shouldn't.

"Attacked… London… escaped…" she breathed.

Theodore dropped her hands and cupped her face. "Breathe slowly," he instructed, his firm voice an anchor she clung to.

She tried, but the leftover adrenaline raced through her veins. So she told herself. Her knees felt weak and the thought of _I could have died, I could have died_ kept racing through her head.

"Hermione, please, try to calm down." Theodore seemed agitated, running his hands from her cheeks to neck, neck to cheeks, and down again.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, dragged his head down and pressed her lips against his in a desperate attempt to finally silence all the noise in her brain.

He stiffened in her arms and tried to move away, but she wouldn't let him. It took one, two, three heartbeats before he responded, just as eager, just as desperate.

Tongues met in a frantic battle that left her breathless and aching for more. She began to pepper his face and neck with kisses, her hands wandering from his shoulders to the fastenings of his robes.

He didn't stop her.

"Hermione, we shouldn't… Don't…" he murmured, breathing ragged.

She rolled her hips against his, grasping at the fabric of his robes until her palms ached.

"Don't say no," she said, between kisses, "not now. Please. I need you so much." She pushed the robes off his shoulders and began to unbutton his trousers, her fingers brushing his cock through the fabric.

"Hermione…" Her name fell off his lips in a moan of pure desire.

"Please," she whispered in his ear, tongue darting out to trace the shell of his ear.

He shuddered as she nipped at his earlobe, and when her hand closed around his aching cock, stroking, teasing, seducing, she knew he was hers.


	11. Mending Bridges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN - Halfway there! Thanks to DelicateScholar for the beta help. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Also, this chapter is the reason this story is rated M (for sMut)

 

 

 

* * *

 

**11\. Mending bridges**

* * *

 

She was his boyhood fantasy come to life.

No, she was much better than that.

She'd wrapped herself around him and set every nerve ending on fire as she dropped to her knees.

When her lips closed around his cock, he had to lean against a bookcase to keep his balance. His ran his fingers through those riotous curls he dreamed of at night.

Theo didn't have time to appreciate how soft the curls were because her tongue began to circle around the head of his cock, pressing against the slit. Then she bobbed down and took him deep, and it was all he could do not to come right there and then. He pulled her off his cock and dropped down to kiss her with desperate urgency. He wasn't prepared for the jolt of fire that ran through his body and settled in his balls at the taste of himself on her tongue.

He groaned and pressed his forehead against hers, eyes closing in an effort to regain control. Her hands snuck downward and he quickly grabbed her wrists to stay her movement.

"Don't," he rasped. "I'm already close."

He felt her wide grin against his mouth as she unbuttoned his shirt with a deftness that surprised him.

He struggled with the fastenings of her jeans until she pushed him back and tore her shirt over her head. His heart pounded hard as she rid herself of her trousers as well, no slow seduction, only frantic desperation. He couldn't help getting even harder at the first glimpse of her breasts and the damp patch between her legs.

And then her underwear was gone and she settled in his lap, grinding her hips against him. He almost came on the spot when his straining cock slid against her hot, wet heat.

He knew he had to take control, or this would be over way too soon.

He shifted her back to close his lips around a hard nipple.

Hermione gasped and arched into him.

His fingers seemed to move of their own accord and when he slipped one, then two fingers into her and she ground down frantically to increase the friction. His thumb found her clit, circling, teasing, and she began to tremble above him, her head thrown back and mouth open in wordless ecstasy.

Her skin tasted of vanilla and strawberries and he just couldn't get enough of her.

Her inner walls clenched around his fingers and she stiffened in his lap, the only sound that escaped an almost surprised "Ohhh…"

Then she collapsed onto him with a shuddering sigh, resting her head on his shoulder.

He didn't give her much time to recover.

He pushed himself up with her in his arms and turned around, pressing her back against the bookcase and wrapping her legs around his waist. He lined himself up and brushed the head of his cock against her wet folds.

"Do you have any idea," he said hoarsely, "how often I dreamed of this?" But he didn't give her the time to answer before pushing in.

Nothing but heat, delicious, slick heat surrounded him. He set a harsh, fast rhythm that she accepted, encouraged even.

She moved back against him, nails digging into his back and spurring him on.

When his fingers found her clit again, she cried with pleasure and came around him, trembling, shuddering, clenching his cock.

It was too much.

He came, stars exploding behind his eyes and fire running through his veins.

They sank onto the floor again.

A wandless _Scourgify cleaned_ up the mess, and he wrapped his arms and legs around Hermione in an effort to remain warm without having to move.

The carpet wasn't that comfortable but his whole body had turned to jelly, he could barely lift a finger. He nuzzled against her shoulder and pressed smiling kisses along her neck.

Hermione stiffened in his arms.

Theodore pulled back a little and waited, a sinking feeling in his heart. He wasn't at all surprised that she began to disentangle herself gently from his embrace, or that she avoided his eyes.

They dressed in silence.

Theodore glanced at Hermione from behind his fringe but she kept her back to him.

"I need to go." Hermione's voice cut through the tense silence like a physical blow. "Work… I'm not supposed to be here."

"Hermione…" Theodore tried to think of something to say, but she shook her head and kept walking. "Hermione, please, wait. Don't go. Not now." Theodore would have been ashamed of the pleading in his voice, but he was desperate to make her stay, to talk, to figure out what had happened.

"I'll see you later," was all she said before she disappeared into the corridor.

He was too stunned to run after her.

Hadn't that been just as amazing for her as for him? And why had she stormed into his room, all dishevelled, with blood on her clothes and smears of dirt on her face? Why had she run away?

He groaned in frustration and kicked at the bookcase. Since he hadn't put his shoes back on yet, it only made him yelp in pain and did nothing to relieve his tension.

A day, he decided. He'd give her a day to get through whatever it was that had made her run away. Then he would find her and get some answers.

* * *

Hermione Floo'd to the Ministry to drop in on Harry and ask him to look into Susan Bones' antecedents, then left again. She had to take an impromptu personal half day, but she couldn't handle being there.

She went home for a time, but couldn't sit still, and decided to go to Diagon Alley. She considered passing by Flourish and Blotts to see if they had any new stock. Being surrounded by books usually calmed her. Except in cases where a certain handsome wizard was also in that room… She blushed and cut that thought short.

The hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley distracted her enough, and she spent a good two hours browsing before venturing out again. She'd barely pulled her cloak over her head when a familiar voice shouted.

"Hermione? Is that you?"

She turned towards the voice, already smiling. "Ginny! I didn't expect to see you here. Are you in a hurry, or do you have time for a chat?"

Ginny laughed and put her arm through Hermione's. "I was on my way to the joke shop, but George can wait. How have you been?"

Hermione opened her mouth to say fine, but the word died on her lips. In the past few hours she'd fought for her life, then had the best sex in Theodore Nott's library. She blushed hotly.

Ginny studied her with narrowed eyes. "Is that a blush I see? Oh my Merlin, you had sex, didn't you? You have that just-been-shagged glow about you! Who was it? Come on, tell me!"

Hermione blushed even more furiously. "Shout a little louder, why don't you?" she hissed, mortified at the curious and amused glances that were being sent their way. " I don't think they heard you all the way up to Hogwarts."

Ginny chuckled, unconcerned. "Oh don't be a prude, Hermione." But she did drop her voice. "So? Who was it? Please tell me you didn't get back together with my brother? He never made you glow like that, I'd remember."

Still embarrassed, Hermione found herself unwilling to answer Ginny's probing questions. She went for flippancy instead. "Which one do you mean?" she asked archly.

Ginny gasped in mock scandal. "You've had more than one of my brothers? Not George? Charlie? Oh sweet Merlin, don't tell me it was Percy in the Ministry Archives…" She looked so horrified at the last thought that Hermione had to laugh.

"I haven't had sex with any of your brothers in the past few months."

"Fine. We'll move on from that particular question for now, but don't think I'll forget, Hermione. Now, if it wasn't my brothers..." Ginny paused, tapping her finger to her lips, deep in thought. Then she brightened. "You minx! It was Nott, wasn't it? Gorgeous, tall, Slytherin?"

The mere mention of his name brought the heat back to her cheeks with a vengeance.

"It was!" Ginny exclaimed, eyes sparkling with triumph. "So, come on, how was it? I never heard anything about his prowess at Hogwarts, so I'm curious."

Hermione shook her head. It was too much, too intimate, too perfect to be the subject of idle gossip between friends.

Something in her face must have betrayed that not all was quite well, though, because Ginny's happy grin disappeared. She drew Hermione aside to a quiet corner where they could talk without being overheard.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" she asked softly, then added with a hint of suspicion, "what did he do?"

"Theodore didn't do anything, Ginny, it wasn't… I just… Really, he didn't," she emphasized, given the incredulous look on Ginny's face.

Ginny pursed her lips, not quite satisfied. "Okay," she said, after a long pause, "then, what did you do? It's not like you'd run away right after the shag of your life or something like that, right?"

Hermione's mouth fell open in horror. "How did you know?"

Ginny blinked, then snorted with laughter. "Hermione, you didn't! Honestly, I was just joking. But clearly I hit the gnome on the head."

Hermione nodded, shamefaced.

"I thought you liked him?"

She nodded again.

"So what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know," she said. "I'll figure something out. I was confused. It shouldn't have happened like that. I just… I was ashamed, and I couldn't breathe, and I had to get out." The surge of panic seemed to take hold of her again and she took a few slow, deep breaths to steady herself.

She'd made a mistake.

It had been a mistake to run to him, but even more so, to run away afterwards.

Ginny shook her head again and patted her on the arm. "You had better slip back into his arms and tell him that," she said, "or he may think it was a one-off. Unless you want it to be a one-off, of course."

"What if he wants it to be a one-off?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

Ginny wrapped her arms around her. "And what if he decidedly doesn't want it to be a one-off, and you never go back? Take a chance, Hermione. Where's your Gryffindor courage?"

 _Used up when I was fighting for my life earlier today,_ Hermione thought, but she didn't say it out loud. She didn't want Ginny to worry even more than she already did. She couldn't tell anyone about the strange attack, or they'd never leave her alone. Harry and the Weasleys were too protective of her to let such a threat pass, and she didn't want to deal with that.

But she would have to face Theodore, sooner rather than later.

* * *

Despite Ginny's solid advice, Hermione didn't contact Theo, torn between fear of rejection and mortification.

When Harry sent her an owl with more information on Susan Bones the next morning, she figured it the perfect excuse. She sent off a short note quickly, saying she had information on the case, and to stop by her flat that evening.

He didn't reply, but he did knock on the door at seven. He didn't look too thrilled to see her.

Her heart dropped into her stomach, but she managed a smile as she shut the door behind him.

"I'm so glad you came," she said, too bright. "I had quite a strange lunch with Susan yesterday, so I asked Harry to look into her background for me. I thought we could have a look and see if anything connects to our case?" She didn't meet his eyes, focusing instead on the tightly scribbled notes Harry had sent her.

"That's not the only strange thing that happened yesterday," Theo said, voice harsh and unforgiving.

Hermione suppressed a flinch and swallowed down her nerves. She sat down on the other side of the table. "Susan seems to have led quite a blameless life since Hogwarts. She's been working for the Wizengamot for the last three years, though she never got promoted. I think-"

"Are we really not going to talk about it?" Theodore asked, placing his fists carefully on the table as he leaned forward.

Hermione made the mistake of looking up and felt pieced through by his glare. But there was something else in his eyes, something that made her gasp and rise from her chair. "I'm sorry… I…" she began, then faltering under his steady gaze.

"You storm into my library looking like you just had a fight with a Mountain Troll, and instead of explaining what happened, you begin to kiss me. We have sex - amazing sex - and before I can quite recover from what has definitely been a top three shag, you disappear. Without a word. Without a single word, Hermione. No note, no explanation, nothing. And then you send me a note and only talk about the case? Salazar, woman, what do you think you are playing at?"

His cheeks tinged red with anger and his eyes glittered like sapphires. His breathing was hard and laboured and the knuckles grinding down on her wooden table were white with tension.

Hermione opened her mouth but she couldn't think of what to say to him.

Ginny's words came back to her, so clearly as if Ginny herself was standing next to her and whispering them in her ear at that precise moment. _Take a chance, Hermione. Where's your Gryffindor courage?_

She took a deep breath, crossed her arms in front of her and lifted her chin. "I was confused," she said, not quite as steady as she'd hoped, but she continued nonetheless. "I had just had the scare of a lifetime, barely escaped with my life, and all I could think was, I could have died." She paused, looking away from him so he wouldn't see the tears that began to form in her eyes. "I could have died. And I'd never have known, what it would be like to kiss you, to hold you. I Disapparated as soon as I could to someplace safe, and I didn't even realise I'd run to you. And then you were there, in front of me, and we were both alive, so alive, and I needed to know. I didn't want to die without knowing. I'm sorry."

She broke off when she felt his fingers wiping the tears off her cheeks, cupping her face gently and lifting it towards him.

"You could have died," he repeated, his voice gravelly and hoarse, as if he had difficulty pushing the words out. "You could have died and you came to me?" He pressed his forehead against hers.

They stood like that for a long time.

Hermione didn't know if there was anything more to say, anything more to do, she just knew she didn't ever want to move again.

He began to kiss her, softly sucking on her lower lip, tracing her upper lip with the tip of his tongue until she opened up for him.

She responded eagerly, but he continued his slow, sensuous exploration of her mouth, forcing her to accept his slower rhythm.

He kissed her and kissed her and kissed her, and she let him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Next time," Theodore whispered between kisses, "don't run away. Please don't ever run away from me again."

She could only give a slight shake of the head before he claimed her lips again, pulling her closer, moulding their bodies together until he wasn't sure where she ended and he began.

He pulled back and took a deep breath, staring at her as if he could etch her face into his heart. He didn't want to break their fragile bond by moving too fast again.

"Now," he said, "tell me everything. Who attacked you? And why did you have Harry check up on Susan Bones of all people?"

* * *

 


	12. Snooping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to DelicateScholar for betaing!!

* * *

 

**12\. Snooping**

* * *

 

 

The next day, Hermione took advantage of a cancelled lunch date with Ginny to set their plan into action.

She and Theo had decided that, though Harry's notes didn't seem to indicate anything suspicious, they'd check out Susan's flat while she was at work.

Hermione wrapped herself in Harry's Invisibility Cloak, careful to make sure her feet weren't showing, and Apparated to Susan Bones' flat.

She'd sent Susan a memo at the Ministry some time ago, and felt the tickle of the Charm she'd placed on it. The woman was safely at her desk

Theo had only grudgingly agreed to let her go alone. He'd cautioned her against blood wards, detection spells, and other protective magic. As if she'd never broken into a flat before.

Still sore from their argument, she had brushed off his concerns.

The door opened with a simple Alohomora, and she found no wards whatsoever. Locking the door behind her, she cast a quick Hominem revelio, then began snooping.

She leafed through books, checking for notes, and rifled through the huge collection of Witch Weekly. Then she moved onto some letters, left carelessly on the sideboard. Susan had agreed to see Hannah Abbott the next weekend, and her order of potions ingredients had finally arrived, and the Naughty Witch sent a notice of cancelled subscription. A very instructive magazine, Hermione knew from experience.

Nothing interesting in the kitchen or loo. Susan favoured herbal tea over black, owned the entire range of Madam Pimpernelle's jasmine bath care products and always hung her wet towels up.

Onto the bedroom, the most likely place for secrets. Susan Bones was either as innocent and boring as a Flobberworm, or Hermione was about to get a right surprise.

The front door swung open and banged against the wall, startling her. She couldn't risk Disapparating. Hermione slipped behind the bedroom door, fussing with the Cloak, and trying to stay calm.

The clatter of cups and saucers and a crackle of a packet of biscuits gave her the bad feeling Susan had every intention of settling for the afternoon. .

At least she didn't seem to notice that her bedroom door was ajar.

Hermione didn't quite know what to do. She had been fully expecting the woman to be at work all day.

Maybe when Susan went to the loo, it'd be loud enough to cover the characteristic Disapparition crack.

The jingle of the Floo interrupted her thoughts, but filled her with hope. A perfect distraction.

"What do you want?" Susan asked with uncharacteristic coldness.

"You should be more careful," said a soft, strangely familiar voice. "You nearly blew it at lunch the other day."

"I didn't expect her to ask questions about him."

"You knew the disappearance of an Auror would cause inquiries."

"Yes, but I didn't realise she'd be the one asking questions. I'd have been prepared for Potter or Boot. Granger is a whole other matter."

A derisive snort. "You know she's a friend of Potter's. You could have guessed he'd ask her to look into things."

Susan sighed deeply. "I didn't sign up for this, you know."

"Yes, you did," the voice said quietly, icily. "You just didn't realise it at the time. Next time, be prepared, Susan. I will not tolerate failure."

A hiss signalled the end of the Floo call.

And Hermione had missed her chance to leave.

A moment later Susan stalked into her bedroom, tense as a board. She crumpled onto her bed, head in her hands, and groaned.

"What did I do? Why did I get into this mess? Merlin, help me…"

Hermione wished she could, but would Susan let her? That strange conversation had confirmed that Susan was somehow involved in Zach Smith's disappearance.

She needed to get to Theo and decide on a plan of action. If only Susan would leave again!

Susan sat up as if obeying Hermione's silent plea, then sprang up from the bed, cursing under her breath. She threw on a cloak, grabbed some papers from her desk, and rushed out.

Hermione waited a full fifteen minutes before she dared to move again, casting a careful revealing charm again, just in case. It didn't take her long to get out of the flat and Apparate to Theo's from a safe spot some distance away.

* * *

Theodore listened attentively while Hermione related everything she had heard, though he couldn't help being distracted by her eyes, shining with excitement, flushed cheeks, and untamed hair that sprang every which way, no matter how often she tucked it behind her ears.

He wanted to run his fingers through that hair again, kiss those blushing cheeks until they flushed even hotter, and nibble on the lip she kept biting so enticingly.

Her amused gaze let him know he'd let his thoughts run away with him, and had been staring for quite some time. "So you didn't recognise the voice?"

She shook her head, still biting her lower lip as she gazed up at him.

He swallowed with difficulty. "Was it a man's voice or a woman's?"

"I really couldn't say. The voice was soft and a little gravelly. It could have been either a man or a woman. There was something familiar about it but I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was…" She trailed off, lost in thought again.

Theodore couldn't stop himself from reaching out and trailing a finger over her cheek.

She gave an apologetic smile. "It seems such an obvious question, but I really can't say what the voice was like. I probably wouldn't even recognise it if I heard it again. I only heard it through the crackle of the Floo flames and a door that was slightly ajar. I wish I'd had a better view of the fireplace, I might have seen who called her."

She caught her breath when his finger slowly traced lower down her neck, over her shoulder, and bare arm, until his fingers entangled with hers.

"You did brilliantly." Theo tugged her close, placing featherlight kisses on her cheeks and lips until she sighed and swayed into him.

"I should tell Harry."

"He's with Draco," he murmured between kisses.

"He's here?" Hermione pulled away, but Theo caught her wrist and stopped her from leaving.

"They are busy, Hermione."

Hermione shrugged and tried to free herself, irritation flicking across her face when the grip on her wrist tightened. "Well, honestly, Theodore, what does that matter? This is important information, we shouldn't keep it from him!"

Theo placed a finger on her lips. "They are busy," he repeated. To drive the point home, he waggled his eyebrows at her with a grin.

She turned bright red, the colour creeping down her neck.

How far down would her blush would go? Theo's grin widened

"Oh," she said. "I see."

She didn't resist when he pulled her closer again, one arm settling around her waist and the other around her shoulders. He bent down and kissed her, slowly, languidly, savouring the taste of her lips, his tongue running along the seam of her mouth until it opened and allowed him entrance.

She moaned, a deep, guttural sound that sent fire coursing through his veins, settling in the pit of his stomach. She tightened her arms around him and moulded her body against his. When she rolled her hips against him, he threw his head back and let out a groan.

"You'll be the death of me, you witch," he muttered, loosening his embrace enough to take a step back and allow his overly sensitive cock some relief.

Hermione panted, her lips plump and reddened from his kisses. "You're not going to stop here again, are you?" she asked in a husky voice.

"Hermione…" His shoulders slumped as he gave her an apologetic look..

"I won't run away this time," she whispered as she leaned into him, sucking on his earlobe, then trailing kisses down his neck until he shivered in her arms.

"Too fast," he gasped, desperately trying to hold onto reason. "I don't want to move too fast."

"Oh, I agree." She almost crooned the words, which should have made him suspicious, if he'd still had any sense left in his brain. Her fingers deftly made work of the buttons on his robes. "Let's move slowly, by all means. You can move slowly in me till we're both sweaty messes, hmm? I don't want to wait any longer." She pushed the robes off his shoulders and ran her fingernails over his bare chest.

Theodore couldn't think of anything but the witch in front of him. He didn't really want to wait, did he? Not after knowing what it was like to touch her, hold her, enter her…

The mere thought made him groan and he caught both her wrists with surprising swiftness, as she was about to run her hands down his chest again.

"Not here," he muttered, "not again."

He wrapped one arm around her waist, the other hand holding both her wrists against his chest, and Apparated them to his bedroom.

Hermione recognised the room, but she hardly had the time to look around before Theodore pushed her down onto his bed, shedding his remaining clothes so quickly it surprised her to find him leaning over her, completely naked.

She suddenly felt awkward, still being fully dressed, but when she tried to loosen her skirt, he stayed her hands.

He kissed them both and placed them above her head on the pillows.

"Let me," he said, with such adoration in his voice and eyes that she could only nod, mutely, and let him undress her slowly, carefully, lovingly.

If the frantic, fiery sex they'd had in the library had been amazing, this slow love-making was better. He took his time, kissing every inch of bared skin with such reverence she almost wanted to giggle, though she knew it would ruin the mood. When he took a nipple in his mouth, she arched up into him, lightning shooting through her body and settling between her legs in a pool of hot, pulsing desire.

His lips and tongue traced all over her body, tickling and arousing her in turn until she lay writhing underneath him, his chuckles reverberating through her stomach. His fingers slipped between her legs, and she opened them a little wider to give him easier access. One finger entered her, then another, and his thumb made slow circles around her clit until she was quivering on the edge of orgasm.

She almost imploded with impatience when he withdrew, a disappointed mewl escaping from her throat before she could stop it.

Soon the head of his cock nudged at her entrance, and then he was inside her, moving with slow deliberation, careful, well-aimed thrusts that hit a spot inside her that made her see stars behind her eyes. He kept going at that infuriatingly slow pace until she fell apart underneath him, shuddering, clenching, a moan on her lips that she couldn't hold back.

He waited a little until she came down from her high, his hands balled to fists in an effort to control himself. When she opened her eyes, he kissed her and slowly began to move again. Their hands entwined, their movements a languid rhythm that sent her to the edge again faster than she would have thought possible, and this time he followed her over the top, her name on his lips in a hoarse whisper.

 


	13. Escalation

* * *

 

* * *

 

**13\. Escalation**

* * *

 

 

Harry Potter followed the Minister into the Atrium for the weekly press conference.

He stood at the edge of the platform, his eyes roaming over the attending reporters and interested crowds. He knew Kingsley had some announcements to make that wouldn't be very popular, a new tax being levied and cuts in some Ministry Departments. Mostly to eradicate the corruption that still ran rampant, but presented as a way to streamline Ministry resources.

It wouldn't be pretty.

His Aurors stood at the edges of the crowd, casually mingling with the other people, but ready to counter any possible threat. He didn't like these public events, but it was important to present a united front.

Not to mention that the face of the Boy Who Lived, even after all these years, helped to mellow the crowd's resentment.

He'd woken up late that morning, scrambling to get to work after spending the night with Draco in Theodore Nott's manor. He had also found a note on his desk from Hermione, telling him they needed to speak urgently.

It would have to wait until after the press conference.

Harry was anxious to hear what she'd uncovered. It annoyed him that one of his Aurors could disappear without a trace and his team was unable to find him. It didn't help that his suspicions about a mole in his department were now confirmed.

He checked on each of the Aurors in attendance, methodically going over their antecedents in his mind until they blurred together. One of them was the Jarvey in the Kneazle nest.

Could he really afford to distrust every single one of the men and women in his employ until he figured out who it was?

How could he trust any of them? And yet, how could he not? He had to trust them to have his back out in the field, he had to trust them to do their jobs when he asked them to.

The betrayal tasted bitter in his mouth. He hoped Hermione could tell him something useful.

Kingsley had barely started his speech when a movement caught Harry's eye. On instinct, he threw a protective shield around the Minister. The air crackled with Dark magic and the crowds panicked. Screams echoed through the Atrium, people running in all directions and desperately trying and failing to disapparate. Harry focused on the cloaked figure moving towards the stage and stepped into the line of fire between the Minister and the threat. He didn't have time to throw up another shield before a blast hit him full in the chest. He slammed into the shield behind hi with a sickening crack, but the pain couldn't compare to the spell racing through his body and leaving excruciating explosions under his skin in its wake. Then there was only darkness.

  

* * *

  

News of the attack and resulting casualties spread through the Ministry like Fiendfyre, taking on a life of its own.

By the time it got around to Hermione, both the Minister and the Head Auror had died in a vicious attack, perpetrated by dragons that had been smuggled in via the Floo.

Ron's patronus, appearing just in time to stop her panicking, reassured her that both Harry and Kingsley were still alive, the Minister sustaining barely a scratch. Harry hadn't been so lucky.

Hermione dashed off an owl to Theodore to tell him what happened, then rushed to St Mungo's.

Ron was waiting for her at the reception, and they went up together to the sixth floor.

"Any news yet?" Hermione couldn't keep the tremor out of her voice. Ron shook his head, his mouth set in a grim line. They settled down on uncomfortable chairs in a mutual silence.

Hermione kept shifting in her seat, tugging at the sleeves of her jumper, which were too thin to keep out the chill of the hospital. She crossed her legs one way, then another, then uncrossed them again.

Ron had no such problems. She envied his composure..

The ticking of the clock sounded loudly in the waiting room, tick, tick, tick...

Nearly an hour passed before she burst. "What really happened? I heard the most ridiculous stories. What can you tell me?"

Ron never stopped staring at the doors to the operating room, but he answered, "Someone tried to curse Kingsley," he said quietly, "the Aurors are working on it. The Ministry is in lock-down, only you were allowed to leave, I made sure of that. They'll find out who did it."

"What curse?"

Ron hesitated.

"Well?" Hermione demanded.

"The Bone-breaking Curse and the Flagellio," he muttered.

"But…how…"

"He cast a protective shield around the Minister but not himself. That's how they caught him out."

Hermione nodded, her eyes straying to the forbidding, closed doors of the operating room. "What did the Healers say?"

"They seemed confident they could save him," he said casually, rumpling the fabric on his knee with a fist. "Started on him as soon as he arrived. They should be finished soon."

No sooner had he said those words, a Healer came out of the operating room.

"You must be here for Mr. Potter," she said, extending a hand to each of them in turn. "He'll be fine. However, he will need additional time to recover. We reversed the Flaying Curse, and there shouldn't even be any scars."

Hermione stood up. "When can we see him?"

"He's being transported to a secure floor as we speak. You can wait in his room until he wakes up, but that won't be for another hour. His bones are still mending and it's less painful for him to sleep through that process." She handed them each a copper button with the St. Mungo's crest engraved on it. "Use these to get to the eighth floor, which is our most secure wing. We are taking every precaution."

Hermione and Ron followed the Healer's instructions to find Harry's room, where they settled onto even more uncomfortable chairs to wait for him to wake up.

Hermione's eyes remained on the slight rise and fall of Harry's chest. She didn't notice Ron was talking to her until he touched her arm.

She blinked at him, eyebrows rising in question.

"Do you know what Harry is involved in?" Ron repeated slowly.

Hermione hesitated, and that was enough for him. They knew each other too well.

"Something's going on. He's investigating something and he won't tell me what it is. You know. I can see you know. Why won't he tell me?"

Hermione sighed. "I don't know, Ron. I don't know why he won't tell you."

"It's serious, isn't it?"

Hermione hesitated again, then nodded.

Ron didn't ask anything else.

She went back to watching her other best friend and the faint rise and fall of his chest.

They waited in silence until Harry opened his eyes, blinking against the sharp light and groaning with pain at the slightest movement.

Hermione leaned over his side, gently reminding him not to move. "Your bones are still mending," she told him, "You took quite a curse for the Minister. You could have been killed, Harry!"

Harry continued to blink owlishly until Ron put his glasses on his nose. Then he managed a half-smile that turned into a grimace when he tried to move. Again.

"Protection?" he croaked.

Hermione frowned in confusion.

Ron silently cast a few spells, the familiar warmth of his magic settling around her. She recognised the privacy spells even without hearing the words.

"The Minister?" Harry asked, once Ron finished.

"Fine."

"Attacker?"

Ron shook his head. "I haven't heard anything yet from the Aurors."

Harry nodded painfully and looked at Hermione. "Draco?"

Before she could answer, Ron jumped in. "Malfoy? You think it was Malfoy?"

Hermione glared at him and shook her head. "I let him know what happened," she said, "and that you'll be alright."

Harry seemed to relax and sank back into the pillows. He'd grown considerably paler during their conversation, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

A Healer stalked into the room and pushed Hermione and Ron aside unceremoniously. He began to take Harry's vitals, eyeing them while uncorking a potion bottle..

"He needs to rest now," he said curtly. "Come back this evening."

  

* * *

  

Exiled from Harry's room, Ron and Hermione made their way back to the Ministry, breathing in the fresh air after the depressing, carbolic smell of the hospital. They were only a few streets away from the Ministry when Ron pulled her aside into the entrance of an empty, derelict shop.

"Malfoy?" he asked incredulously.

Hermione shrugged. "I'm sure he would have told you."

"Told me what?"

Hermione blinked. Right, Draco Malfoy was supposed to be a fugitive. She touched her wand in her pocket and cast a surreptitious _Muffliato_ before answering.

"Harry and Draco are together, Ron. I only found out a few days ago myself."

Ron turned bright red. "But he's a criminal!"

"No," she said firmly. "He was framed. Harry _knows_ he is innocent. And so do I."

Ron turned away from her, hands slowly clenching and unclenching alongside his body.

Hermione waited. When he turned back, his color had returned to normal. Still upset, but manageable.

"So they're together."

"I didn't want to keep you out of this," she said, apologetically.

Ron nodded "I'll talk to Harry. Later."

"We better go and see what the Aurors have turned up. They'll be needing their Deputy Head Auror, you know. Such a bunch of incompetent idiots without proper guidance." Hermione's teasing tone did conjure a smile on Ron's face, and she knew she was forgiven.

Ron started again, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. "The Malfoy thing…"

Ron tucked her arm into his and began towards the out-of-order toilets.

"Mum's the word. Not like anyone would believe me, anyway."

Hermione accompanied him up to the Auror department, more out of curiosity than necessity.

When they arrived, the whole place was in chaos.

Memos flew around by the dozens, protective gear spread around on several desks, and a palpable excitement vibrated in the air.

The moment Ron set foot on the second floor, his whole demeanour changed. He stood taller, exuding more confidence and authority all in one breath.

Hermione always marvelled at the change in her friend when he had to take up the mantle of authority. He never liked it, preferring to be on cordial terms with his colleagues and resenting any kind of hierarchy, but performed admirably when needed.

"Right," he said, and everyone seemed to freeze at the noise. "What is going on?"

At once, excited chatter broke out across the whole department, twenty-odd people talking at the same time.

Hermione could hardly keep track, but Ron didn't seem flustered.

"Lock-down…"

"Investigation… questioning…"

"P _riori incantatem_ …"

"The pensieves… "

"Creevey…"

Ron opened his mouth again and the whole floor fell silent while he drew a deep breath. He didn't need to shout to get their attention.

"Where is he?" he asked briskly.

Terry Boot stepped forward. "He's in Interrogation Room 1, Sir." He gave a sharp nod to Ron and a cordial wink at Hermione, who was still trying to make sense of everything.

"Right. I'll go talk to him. Hermione, do you want to watch?"

Hermione nodded, bewildered.

She fell into step behind Ron and Boot, who rattled off a number of things at such a rapid pace Hermione couldn't follow. Her mind was still reeling.

_Creevey? Not Dennis Creevey? Are there any other Creevey's? No...? But why would he try to attack the Minister?_

All too soon they arrived at the interrogation room. Hermione was ushered into the observation room along with two Aurors she knew only by face. Deputy Head Auror Weasley and Auror Boot took place across the table from someone who, indeed, was Dennis Creevey.

Hermione almost didn't recognise him.

His hair was long and lank, his face pale and dark circles under his eyes betrayed he hadn't slept well in a long time.

He shifted back and forth on his chair, his fingers drumming a nervous tattoo on the table. His eyes flicked towards the door every so often. He avoided looking at either of the men in front of him.

He didn't respond to any questions; just sat there, silent and restless.

Hermione could feel the atmosphere in the observation room change. No longer was there an air of subdued victory, as they had caught the perpetrator.

His withdrawn silence made them uneasy, and the feeling was catching.

Ron was getting frustrated. He repeated the same question for the tenth time, and for the tenth time Dennis Creevey refused to answer.

"Come on, Dennis," Ron said, aiming for the cordial tones of former housemates, "why did you try to kill the Minister? Surely you had a reason to commit such a crime?"

To her surprise, Dennis Creevey began to laugh. A hysterical, hyena-like how that sent chills down her spine.

"Not Shacklebolt," Dennis Creevey said between bouts of baying laughter. "Not Shacklebolt. Not Shacklebolt at all."


	14. Strike one, strike two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta love to DelicateScholar.

  

* * *

 

**Chapter 14: Strike one, strike two  
  **

* * *

 

Exhausted as Hermione was from the day's events, she made her way to Nott Manor that evening to bring the men up to speed on recent developments.

The Prophet had published a special evening edition to report on the attack and the Head Auror's precarious condition, sharing everything in sordid, and sometimes not quite truthful, detail with their avid readers. The Minister for Magic's appeal for people to remain calm was dutifully printed next to the much more salacious op-ed by the Editor in Chief, claiming a new Death Eater rebellion was upon them and people should be prepared to take up arms. Lovely.

Hermione found Draco pacing the sitting room when she arrived by Floo. He stiffened and turned on his heel when she stepped out of the green flames and dusted the soot off her cloak.

"He'll be fine," she said in response to the desperate appeal in his eyes. She'd only ever seen him so pale and restless back in sixth year. Despite her dislike for him, his obvious anxiety for Harry made her heart melt, just a little.

"He wouldn't let me leave." Fury and frustration rose in his voice as he waved a dismissive hand towards Theodore, who had entered the room shortly after her arrival.

"Quite right, too," Hermione said sternly, though her features softened when she looked at Theodore. "You'd have been arrested and Harry wouldn't want that."

Draco balled his hands into fists and started pacing again.

"You shouldn't be in this room, Malfoy. Anyone could arrive by Floo and see you."

Theodore sighed and slumped into a chair, then raising his arms behind his head.

Hermione noticed that it made his shirt ride up to expose his stomach, and she licked her lips unconsciously. She coloured at Theodore's knowing smile and glanced at Draco, but he was too preoccupied to see the exchange.

"I told him that too, but he wouldn't listen. It was all I could do to keep him in the house after your owl arrived. But I assume Potter will be fine?" Theodore's voice sounded casual and disinterested, but his eyes glowed with genuine concern.

Hermione nodded.

"The Prophet had a ball writing up the reports," he continued, thrusting his chin towards the end table on which the evening edition lay, neatly folded.

ATTACK ON FREEDOM! BRAVE POTTER SAVES MINISTER, the headline screamed at her. Flashes of curses ran through the air on the upper half of the photo that accompanied the article.

Hermione shook her head in disgust. She didn't want to read any further.

"So what happened?" Draco's voice cut through the room like lightning. He looked so tense he seemed ready to snap at the slightest movement. "Where is Harry? What is going on?"

Hermione sat down on the armrest of Theodore's chair, wrapping an arm around his shoulder for support and comfort. She explained all she knew about the attack, Harry's injuries, and the developments in the Auror department.

"Then Creevey said the attack was never meant to harm the Minister," she concluded. "He'd meant to kill Harry."

The chaos that had ensued in the Auror department after that statement was impossible to describe. Ron had nearly attacked Creevey, who only laughed and laughed and laughed. Then he'd been dragged away to a Ministry cell and Ron had organised protection for Harry in the hospital.

Hermione had slipped away unseen, too shaken by the revelation to do anything but hide in her office. She didn't mention any of that to Draco and Theodore. She didn't need to.

Theodore stiffened next to her. His arm, casually encircling her waist, tightened, his hand gripping her thigh with such force that she drew in a sharp breath in surprise.

Draco stared at her, unable to form words. Panic seemed to overtake his every movement and for a moment, Hermione feared he would give in to the hysterics that pulled at the edges of his self-control. But then he took a deep breath, drew his shoulders back and thrust his sharp chin out.

"You have to get him out of that hospital and bring him here. If he's the target of their attacks, there's nowhere else he could be safe. Nobody knows I'm here. Nobody knows he has any connection to Theo. We'll put him under the Fidelius and I'll be his Secret-Keeper. He's mine, so that will keep us both safe. You need to figure this out, Granger. Get that massive brain of yours to work before those idiots succeed."

And with that, he stalked out of the room.

They sat in stunned silence until Hermione began to giggle, partly to release the tension in the room and partly because something funny had just struck her. Theodore looked at her, his eyebrows raised in question.

"Well," Hermione said, still laughing, "I'd almost swear he just complimented me. Who'd have thought Malfoy would ever compliment me?"

Theodore smiled up at her, then rested his head against her side. "He's right, though. This is getting complicated and dangerous. We do need to figure this out. Soon."

* * *

Ginny ambushed Hermione on her way into work the next day.

Hermione was quite unprepared for the sight of her friend in the Ministry Atrium, but happy to take her down to her own office, listening to her chatter about Bill and Fleur and the children, and how Molly had yet again despaired of Charlie, who had added another tattoo to his already considerable collection.

The moment the door of Hermione's office closed behind them, Ginny rounded on her friend with an intensity that took Hermione by surprise.

"What the hell is going on, Hermione?" she asked, folding her arms and tapping her foot impatiently in an uncanny imitation of her mother. "Ron won't tell me anything, the Prophet is spouting its usual nonsense and nobody seems to know what happened to Harry. But you must know. I can see you know. You never were a very good liar, Hermione. Tell me. Please."

Hermione avoided looking at her friend by busying herself flipping through the notes on her desk and quickly sorting them into piles. To do, ignore, urgent.

"Hermione!"

The sharp exclamation made Hermione look up. She sighed, then gestured for Ginny to sit down.

Ginny did so, reluctantly. "Look, I know Harry and I didn't part in the best of ways, but I do still care about him. He's like a brother to me, and nobody will tell me how he is. The hospital won't tell Mum, and Ron has ignored all our owls. We're just worried. Is it true what the Prophet said? That he almost died in the attack?" Ginny's soft brown eyes pleaded for an answer. It would be cruel not to relieve her friends' worries.

"Ron should have told you he'll be fine," Hermione said, frustrated about his reticence. "That would have kept you all from worrying. The Healers are confident he'll get well soon."

Ginny sagged into the chair. "Thank Merlin," she muttered. Then she pursed her lips and studied Hermione, her eyes narrowed.

Hermione felt a little uncomfortable under the scrutiny and, to give herself something to do, she reached for the pile of urgent memos she needed to deal with before meeting Theodore at the Auror Office.

"There's more you're not telling me."

Hermione didn't dare look up. She'd never been good at hiding her thoughts from Ginny.

"While I was waiting in the Atrium I heard a rumour that the attack was aimed at Harry rather than the Minister. Is that true?"

Hermione forced a chuckle. "You know what the Ministry is like, Gin. Yesterday they said it was a dragon attack, today they say it was aimed at Harry and not Kingsley. Who knows what they'll make of the whole thing by tomorrow."

Ginny hummed noncommittally. "Harry's gotten himself embroiled in something again, hasn't he?"

Hermione froze for a second.

"So he has. What is it this time?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think I can tell you, Ginny."

Ginny's fist slammed down on the desk. "When will you lot stop treating me like a little girl? Poor little Ginny Weasley, never good enough to be part of the famed Golden Trio, always kept in the dark. Well, fuck that, Hermione. If Harry's in trouble, I want to help."

Hermione hesitated, but the flash of hurt in Ginny's eyes and the uncomfortable churning of guilt in her stomach spurred her on.

"Fine," she sighed. "I'll tell you what I can."

* * *

Hermione wondered briefly if she'd made a mistake confiding in Ginny before talking things over with either Harry or Theodore, but it was too late now. She hadn't spilled everything.

She'd kept Draco Malfoy's location secret, and hadn't told her about their plans to move Harry to the same safe place. She'd hinted that something suspicious was going on in the Auror Department, but the magical vow she'd taken prevented her from giving Ginny any details.

"Theodore and I are going to talk to Ron this morning," she finished. "This whole thing has grown way above our heads now. I'm sure it's all connected, but I can't figure out how. We're going to need all the help we can get, really."

Ginny nodded. "Someone tried to kill you?"

Hermione shuddered, thinking back of the fight in the alley. "Yes. But I escaped, that's the important part." She also hadn't told Ginny that it had been that same day she'd run straight to Theodore Nott to ravish him in his library, only to run straight in the opposite direction right after.

"I'll come with you," Ginny said, "when you go see Ron. I really do want to help, Hermione. You shouldn't take on this whole thing by yourself."

Hermione briefly thought Theo wouldn't appreciate Ginny's presence, but she shook the uncomfortable feeling off. He'd just have to deal.

"I just need to finish up some paperwork I've been avoiding. I'm meeting Theo at half ten on the second floor."

Ginny stood up. "I'll see you there."

* * *

At half ten, Hermione waited for Theo and Ginny outside Harry's office, where Ron had taken command of the team.

She checked her watch repeatedly.

Theo was the first to appear. "Sorry I'm late." He greeted her with a smile and a kiss on her lips. "I couldn't get away."

Given his raised eyebrow and wry twist of lips, she bet she could guess who held him up.

"You're here now."

She still hadn't figured out how to bring up Ginny's presence, but it became a moot point when the witch walked up to them, somehow inserting herself between Theodore and Hermione.

"I hope I'm not late?" She gave a self-conscious laugh. "I ran into a friend on the way up and we started talking. You know how it goes. Is Ron ready to see us?"

"Us?" Theodore's voice would've frozen a lesser person.

"Hermione told me what was going on," Ginny informed him. "I thought I could help."

"I see." Theodore met Hermione's apologetic gaze with cold disapproval, then turned away from her, his hands in the pockets of his robes and his lips pressed together in a tight line.

Hermione felt herself wilt under the dismissal. She wanted to apologise, to take him aside and explain, but Ron stuck his head out the door and waved them in.

Ginny and Hermione sat down on the chairs in front of the desk. Theodore leaned against the wall next to the door, arms folded and face impassive. Only his stormy eyes betrayed he wasn't quite calm.

Ron surveyed the unlikely trio with sharp eyes, then focused on Hermione.

"Can you shed any light on this, Hermione?"

Hermione was about to explain what she could - again - when the door opened and Terry Boot stormed in, his face white as marble.

"It's… it's Creevey, Sir," he panted, trying to catch his breath.

Ron sprang up, wand in hand. "What about him?" he barked.

"Dead, Sir," Boot gasped, "in his cell. Murdered."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So life continues to be a mess and my updates are a lot slower than I would like but I just wanted to assure you this is not abandoned!


	15. Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta love to DelicateScholar. All remaining mistakes are my own.  
> Special thanks to JL who made me spend all day working on the remaining chapters in this story.

 

  

* * *

 

**Chapter 15: Consequences**

* * *

It only took a single glance between Hermione and Theodore to agree they would not say a word. If Creevey could be killed in a Ministry cell without a trace of the murderer, then clearly the Auror Department had been deeply compromised. No matter how much Hermione trusted Ron, she couldn’t tell him anything.

Ron excused himself and left without another word, Terry Boot close on his heels.

The other three left his office, subdued and weary. By unspoken agreement, they made their way to Hermione’s office, where all three of them collapsed on various chairs.

“I can’t believe Creevey is dead,” Hermione muttered to nobody in particular.

“I can’t believe it was Creevey in the first place,” Ginny sighed, wrapping her arms tightly around her body. “He was such a nice kid. What could have possessed him?”

Theodore didn’t say anything. He simply looked from one woman to the other in silence.

Eventually, Ginny sat up again. “What do we do now?”

“We?” The word burst from Theodore’s lips before he could stop it. He saw Hermione’s look of contrition and the frown that passed over Ginny’s face but didn’t back down. “What do you have to do with any of this?”

“Harry is my friend,” Ginny bit out, eyes flashing and cheeks burning. “If he’s in trouble, I want to help.”

“Sign up for the Auror department then,” Theodore sneered. “Hermione and I are looking into something quite different.”

“You don’t think Zach Smith’s disappearance and the attack on Harry are connected?” Ginny asked scathingly.

Theodore blanched.

Any hope he’d had that Hermione might not have shared everything died. He threw her a reproachful glance before shrugging at Ginny. “I have no idea if they are related or not. At the moment, we have no proof either way.”

“You don’t even have any idea if Smith is alive or dead. I don’t know what you think you’ve achieved so far, but clearly it isn’t anything much.”

Theo’s nostrils flared with anger as he rose gracefully from his seat. “I’ll talk to you later,” he said coldly, with a glance towards Hermione. After another second of stony silence, he headed toward the door.

“Theodore, wait, please?”

He stiffened, his hand still on the doorknob.

“Ginny, can you give us a minute?”

Ginny left the office, with the pointed promise to return in fifteen minutes with fresh coffee, while Theodore glared at Hermione.

She stared back, equally silent, then sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have talked to you before telling her anything. But she could help us, Theo. She’s smart and quick. Maybe she’ll see something we’ve missed.”

Theodore shook his head. “Did it not occur to you that there might be a reason Potter hadn’t even told his best friend about the Zach Smith case? He wanted us to keep this to ourselves. You shouldn’t have even considered telling her.”

“She was worried about Harry.”

“So why didn’t you just tell her he’d be fine? She didn’t need to know anything else. Or did you want her involved?”

Hermione shook her head helplessly.

“I don’t like it,” Theodore said harshly. Then his shoulders slumped a little. “I really don’t know why. I have nothing against her. I just wish you’d asked me before you talked to her.”

Hermione walked around to wrap her arms around him in a tight hug. “I really am sorry. You’re right, I should have asked.”

“It’s not just us any more now,” he muttered into her curls. He inhaled deeply, revelling in the scent of oranges and vanilla and something just Hermione.

“I know,” she whispered. “But this isn’t a game.”

“So you do think the attack on Potter is related to Smith?”

Hermione shrugged. “It’s quite a coincidence that Smith’s investigating some underground rebellion, disappears, and a few weeks later, Harry is nearly killed. And now his attacker is dead, so we can’t ask him any questions.”

“No,” Theodore said pensively. “But there’s someone else we could ask now.”

Hermione looked up, realisation lighting up her eyes. “Susan Bones?”

“Susan Bones,” Theodore confirmed.

 

* * *

 

Hermione sat across from Susan, nursing a cup of tea.

Susan shifted uneasily under her gaze, hands clenched around her cup, knuckles white with tension. She had the haggard look of a woman carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Hermione sipped and considered how to approach her. Theodore would be better at this. He’d been so kind to Zach Smith’s mother after she had burst in with all the subtlety of an elephant.

Hermione already had some kind of connection with Susan, so they had decided it would be better if she asked questions first. She carried a Galleon with a Protean Charm that would summon Theo and Ginny, who waited for her in the Leaky Cauldron.

“What did you want, Hermione?” Susan’s voice sounded so tired and weary that Hermione blinked and looked at her a little more closely. Her eyes were red and her hands trembled slightly, even though she tried very hard to hide it.

“I think you know,” Hermione said. “You were always one of the clever students, Susan. I want to know what happened to Zach Smith.”

Susan didn’t respond right away. She carefully placed her cup on the coffee table, then folded her hands in her lap. She didn’t look at Hermione at all. “What makes you think I know?”

Hermione considered lying, then telling the truth. “I have good reasons.”

Susan nodded. She still didn’t look at Hermione. Her lips were pressed together as if she physically had to stop herself from speaking.

Hermione could feel the energy in the room shift and she knew she had a chance to make Susan talk. “I know you are involved in something that has grown far beyond you,” she said softly. “I know that Zach Smith was investigating a dangerous organisation and disappeared. You’re the last person who has seen him, Susan. And now Harry Potter is in the hospital, recovering from a very nasty attack, and his attacker, Dennis Creevey, was found dead in a Ministry cell. How many more need to be killed or injured before you will speak up?”

Susan’s head snapped up, and, for the first time, looked Hermione straight in the eye. “So it is true? He’s dead?”

Hermione held Susan’s gaze for a long time before giving a single, slow nod.

Susan gasped, her hands flying to her mouth and tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. It took a while, but her eyes hardened and chin firmed.

“Can you keep me safe?”

Hermione placed her teacup on the coffee table between them and kneeled down next to Susan. “Tell me everything.”

Susan swallowed. “Valkyrie… If they find out I talked, my life won’t be worth a Knut. I want to help you. But you have to keep me safe. Can you? Can you keep me safe from them?” She held on Hermione's wrist so tightly it ached. “Can you?”

“Who are they?” Hermione asked calmly.

Susan pressed her lips together again and shook her head stubbornly.

“I will keep you safe. But only if you tell me what you know.”

Susan sank back on the sofa, deflated. “Yes. I’ll tell you.”

Hermione sat herself down next to her. “Tell me,” she said firmly.

“The Valkyrie is angry. Angry with Harry Potter and all who support him. Because in the aftermath of the War, so many who collaborated with the Death Eaters in the Ministry still walk around without being punished. Because Harry said that we needed to move on and that retaliation only feeds more retaliation and then the War can never end. But tell me,” she bit her lip, eyes haunted, “how is it supposed to end for us, when all the people we love are dead? Empty seats in our home, holes in our hearts. It’s never over for us, Hermione.”

Hermione had to swallow down the hot indignation that Susan’s words evoked.

“Who is the Valkyrie?” she asked instead.

“You don’t agree,” Susan said, searching her face. “Of course you don’t. You don’t understand what it’s like to be one of us. Valkyrie does. Valkyrie understands the betrayal, the pain we all feel.” She shook her head. “I don’t expect you to understand. I do support the cause, but the price… Dennis is dead. The price is too high.”

“Who is Valkyrie,” Hermione repeated, for what felt like the tenth time.

Susan opened her mouth, but her fireplace lit up in bright emerald flames and Ginny and Theodore stepped out.

Susan’s eyes grew wide and alarmed.

Hermione smiled at her reassuringly. “You remember Theodore and Ginny, I think? They are helping me.”

Susan stared at them for an uncomfortably long time.

Then she sent a tremulous smile at Hermione, and after squeezing her hand, she let go and rose to welcome the unexpected visitors. “Why don’t you get settled,” she said with a stiff gesture at the sofas. “I’ll make some more tea.”  

She disappeared into the kitchen.

Hermione stood up and walked over to her friends with barely concealed excitement. “She’s willing to talk,” she whispered. “She was about to tell me all about the Valkyrie.”

“She is?” Ginny patted Hermione on the shoulder. “Well done!”

Hermione blushed under the compliment, but her eyes were fixed on Theodore. She looked up at him uncertainly, but his beaming smile and brief hug told her all she needed to know.

“Now we really are getting somewhere,” he murmured in her ear. Then he let go of her and walked around the sitting room with a casual air.

Hermione knew he was taking stock of everything he saw. Ginny sat down on a sofa with a satisfied sigh, ready to hear all Susan was about to tell them.

Hermione heard Susan potter about in the kitchen, porcelain and metal clanging in a cacophony of sounds. “I’ll go see if I can help Susan.”

She found Susan about to pour hot water into the cups, so there really wasn’t much that she could do. A moment later they were all seated, Ginny and Theodore on one sofa, Hermione and Susan on the other.

Susan was fidgeting again, nervously glancing between the door and the fireplace.

Hermione placed a reassuring hand on her arm.

“You look a little pale, Susan,” Ginny said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled in the room. “Why don’t you have some tea first, and then we can talk?”

Susan swallowed, her eyes dancing from Ginny to Theodore to Hermione before settling on her teacup. Her hands trembled as she brought the cup to her lips, but she drank everything in one go, then placed it back on the table with a loud clang.

“You were about to tell me about the Valkyrie,” Hermione prompted gently.

Susan nodded. “The Valkyrie is the leader of the rebellion. The Valkyrie brought us together and leads all our operations. Taking Harry Potter out was the first goal. His… code name… is Thunder.” The words came slower and slower until Susan had to force them from her lips. She slumped back against the sofa as if she could no longer keep herself upright. Then her body began to tremble violently and golden flumes bubbled from her lips.

Hermione sprang up and watched with wide eyes. “Poison!”

“I’ll try to call St Mungo’s.” Theodore was at the Floo in a moment and trying to connect to the hospital.

Ginny came over and began to perform silent spells on the convulsing witch, hoping to extract the poison.

The tremors stopped suddenly.

“It’s too late,” she said, turning horrified eyes to Hermione. “She’s dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised this wasn't abandoned and really, it isn't, even if six months for an update is a long time to wait. Life's been a bit crazy. But here goes and fingers crossed I can post everything before I get caught up in another maelstrom...


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